Twelve Presents
by MisplacedHyperQuill
Summary: Molly is receiving random gifts from what Sherlock says is a secret admirer. Who is it? What is Sherlock going to say about his girlfriend's admirer? Just a Christmas Story and ongoing Birthday Fic for Yukkin. Rating has been bumped up for smut, but there are guidelines, so if you are uncomfortable you can just skip right past it- everything else is completely safe, I promise :)
1. Chapter 1

**Hullo again! So Sherlock is not owned by me. Sad, but true.**

Molly Hooper was a woman with a routine. Every day when she entered the morgue, a body would lie waiting for her to slice open and examine, a stack of paperwork would be ready to be signed, or a dose of both. She would then sigh, set down her bag, pull on her lab coat, and get to work. Then at the end of another day, she would pack up her things, switch of the light to the morgue and leave.

Sometimes this routine was altered, usually by the presence of the Scotland Yard or Sherlock Holmes, but usually both. On those days, the bodies were more exciting compared to the usual heart attacks and falls on the head. That was as far as her routine ever changed during work.

It was another day, and Molly went in, switched on her light and did the necessary. Once ready she turned around to face the hard metal body slab and stopped short, staring at the very random object on the table, gaping like a fish.

The bouquet was a large collection of very bright, vivid colours. Upon closer inspection, Molly found that they were, in fact, an assortment of red roses and another species of large dyed carnations. They were wrapped in soft satin-like wrapping paper and was tied with a large purple bow.

Molly stared at the bouquet, before gingerly picking it up. There was a small white plastic card that confirmed that it was, in fact, for her. Frowning, she looked around for a card. It was then when the first call came in that morning alerting Molly of the arrival of the first murder of the week. A second call when the examinations were over announced the arrival of a D.I and his partner D.S, a Field Forensics Expert, a consulting detective and his blogger.

Molly sighed, before talking in the last dose of quiet peace.

A few moments later, the doors to the morgue swung open, welcoming the visitors, two if which causing a large racket by arguing with each other.

0o0o0oo0o

As Sherlock set about deducing the body with the men, Sally and Molly stood at the back of the room, watching.

"I can't believe Christmas decorations are up so fast." The police officer remarked

"Well, Christmas is three weeks away. I see where you are coming from though. I prefer it when the morgue is nice and white." Sally let out a chuckle, shaking her head.

" You should see the Yard, it is bonkers there. We have at least six Christmas Trees and the juniors are planting mistletoe absolutely everywhere!" she sighed "I love Christmas, but honestly, enough with the Mistletoe!" Molly laughed. A shout of anger from Anderson burst through the room. Molly sighed.

"He somehow manages to be civil with everybody except James. How are you two anyway?" the pathologist asked.

"It's-It's going great, actually. The divorce has been finalized between him and his wife, and he's moving in, in a few days, so yeah." Sally smiled. "It's been great. So…how's it been going with you and Sherlock?" Molly laughed.

"It's still so weird that you don't call him 'freak' anymore.""

"Hey, you're the one dating him" the detective retorted.

"Sally, we're leaving!" Greg yelled "Bye, Molls!" he called before leaving the morgue. John walked over to Molly and gave her a quick hug before leaving as well, following Anderson, who was still muttering a few choice words. The last male in the room joined the two women.

"Sherlock, you _have_ to stop being so mean to Jim." Molly sighed when he joined her side.

"It isn't my fault he's an incompetent fool." He retorted coolly.

"That's my boyfriend you're talking about, _freak_." Sally said, the seriousness in her tone sobered by the grin on her face. The insult, once meant to hurt, was now a playful term for teasing. Sherlock smirked.

"That isn't my fault, Sergeant." Sally chuckled slightly.

"You may be dating Molly now, but you certainly have not become anything less git." She turned to Molly and gave her a hug.

"So, you'll come to the party at the Yard then? You are invited, and so is Sherlock, drag him along. It will be funny to see him scowling all night long." Molly laughed at Sherlock's frown from beside her.

"Of course, see you Sally!" she called as the D.S walked out the door.

"Good, we're alone." Sherlock muttered, before leaning down and planting a kiss on Molly's lips. Molly squealed slightly in surprise before slapping him away.

"That wasn't necessary" he said, cupping his reddening cheek.

"Sherlock, what did I say about…intimacy at work?" she asked exasperatedly.

"I don't know, I was to busy thinking of _other_ things." He said, his eyebrow rising suggestively.

"Sherlock." Molly groaned, smacking him in the chest. He grunted, before stepping away.

"If I had known that being involved consisted of physical abuse I would have rethought my decision many more times."

"Shut up. Now either leave, or sit here and be quiet." Sherlock mumbled something under his breath before settling next to Molly on her workbench.

0o0o0o0ooo0o

"When were you going to tell me you received a bouquet today?" Sherlock asked suddenly. Molly looked up.

"I was waiting for you to deduce it yourself, you took quite sometime." Sherlock scowled.

"You were more fun when you stuttered and became flustered."

"Have I ever told you how cute you are when you scowl?" Sherlock growled slightly.

"I. Am. _Not._ CUTE." he growled, through gritted teeth.

"Oh you know you are. It didn't say who it was from though. Any ideas?" she asked, switching the topic back to the original one. Sherlock visibly lightened, straightening out and taking a breath.

"Well, by the looks of the flowers, and their over exaggeration, this man, yes man, is obviously infatuated with you. He doesn't know what exactly you like, so he decided to mix and match. He obviously went somewhere expensive, to emphasize his fancy on you. Honestly Molly, it is quite obvious." Molly rolled her eyes.

"Who could it be then?" Just then the doors to the morgue swung open. Molly turned around.

"Oh, hey Josh." The man at the doors grinned, showing of his perfect pearly whites. He ran a hand through his blonde hair and walked forward. He caught a look at Sherlock and frowned slightly, but it was masked again with the handsome grin.

"Molly, that Mr. Holden? I need the paperwork on him." Molly nodded and moved to get the stack of papers. She reached the file lockers and groaned.

"Hey, some help here? Short girl needs help." Sherlock moved to help her, but was blocked when the blonde man was by her side in a matter of seconds.

"Here, let me." he said. Molly tried to duck under his body as he leaned over to grab the folders but was trapped. She almost yelped when she felt his hand brush against her bum.

"Thanks Molly." He said, flashing another grin before sauntering out the room. Molly stood, red in the face.

"Stupid pervert. And he knows you're my boyfriend!" Sherlock sat silently, giving her a pointed look. Molly's face dawned with realization.

"What? No, Josh wouldn't- he, he doesn't fancy me." Sherlock gave her another look. Molly groaned in resignation.

"Whatever." She looked at the flowers. "They are pretty though. Can I put 'em up at home?" Sherlock raised an eyebrow and muttered something that sounded like "women"

"Of course you can. Just as long," he said, moving closer, "you know," he whispered, his lips inches from hers, "who's you are." He closed the distance. They snogged for a while. Sherlock smirked when he heard Molly groan.

The smirk seemed to snap Molly out of her reverie. She let out a frustrated huff as pushed Sherlock away.

"What was that for?" he cried out

"I'm still at work Sherlock. You know what we agreed!" Sherlock huffed.

"Your shift is over!" Molly chuckled to herself, and grabbed her bag and the bouquet.

"Yes, well, I refuse to satisfy your annoying libido until we get home. Understand?" Sherlock mumbled again, before kneeling and picking something of the floor.

"It dropped from the bouquet." He said handing Molly the card.

" 'Beautiful flowers for the most beautiful woman in my eyes' "Molly read. "Aww, that's sweet." Sherlock bristled. Molly looked at him and laughed.

"Sherlock, calm down. You know I love you, now let's go. The faster we get back to my place, the faster we can do whatever you like." Sherlock nodded curtly before sweeping out the door as fast as humanly possible.

Molly chuckled before following.

**Okay this is the first chapter of a 12 chapter fic I'm writing as a Christmas project and as an ongoing Birthday Fic for my best book and TV show confidant. Hope you guys like this so far, and to The Snapping Point readers, don't worry, Chapter 15 is currently underway!**

**Happy Early Birthday, Yukkin! Love you xx 3**

**Love you all, Review?**

**-Ash **


	2. Chapter 2

**I **_**wish**_** I own Sherlock.**

Molly could tell Sherlock didn't enjoy shopping. That's was honestly the main reason she dragged him along to look at horrendous decorations for a whole afternoon. As they walked through the crowded shopping mall, Molly rested her head against his bicep, smiling as she felt him loop his arm around her waist and bring her closer. Sherlock had finally gotten past his initial embarrassment when they first started dating as was now more affectionate, even in public. Well, around strangers at least. He was yet to face his fear of affection in front of people he knew.

"Sherlock, do you mind if I look around a little? Please?" she asked, pointing to a designer jewelry store. Sherlock groaned.

"But I want to get back. Molly, you said that we would be in and out. You can't go back on your word."

"Please, Sherlock, _please_? You know I never get to go." She said, putting on a small pout. Sherlock knew he could win this debate if he bothered, but letting down Molly was not on that days agenda. Besides, if she was angry, they'd have no…fun, later. He sighed.

"Fine." Molly grinned widely and hugged the man before dumping all her shopping on him and walking in. Sherlock sighed again, praying that a text from Lestrade would come in soon.

Half and hour later, Molly was in the fifth store, looking at yet another set of diamonds and rubies. Sherlock sat on a cushioned chair, texting John.

"Sherlock, come look at this." Molly called out suddenly. Sherlock walked over to where Molly was stood with an assistant, who was unashamedly checking him out. He smirked at her, deducing the woman.

_Bleached hair, too much make up, tries to catch every man she gets. Obviously in early twenty's. Soft hands, never seen work. Rich, father owns this store. Forced to work here, but still paid._

"Look at this." Molly said, snapping him out of his reverie. She smirked slightly, _is ever a time when he gives his brain a rest?_ She glanced down at the pendants in her palm. They were beautiful; a simple magnifying glass with embedded emeralds, and small, silver heart.

"Hmmm." Sherlock murmured. Molly huffed and rolled her eyes at him before handing the pendants back to the annoying assistant.

"Will you be buying these?"

"No thanks." She said, a fake smile plastered on her face.

"Well, thank you for coming." The woman said, her voice laced and dripping with sarcasm. She gave a wink to Sherlock and whispered 'call me!' while pointing at his hand.

The couple left the store.

"Another one tried her luck with you?" Sherlock laughed at Molly's comment. He unballed his fist, revealing a crumpled piece of paper.

"Apparently so." He said, before flinging the paper behind his back. He frowned. "You know, you have enough money saved to buy those two pendants. Why didn't you?"

"Because Sherlock, I wanted them, but I didn't need them. I already have everything I need. Now come on, let's get home."

"So I followed you around five different stores, after you finished all the _apparently _necessary shopping, for no reason." Molly turned to look at him, a grin playing on her lips.

"It's funny when you do boyfriend things." She said simply, before turning around and walking away. Sherlock stood for a few seconds, gaping at the pathologist.

"Bloody woman." He muttered, before following.

0o0o0o0o

The doorbell rang loudly throughout the apartment. When no one answered, it, the annoying jingle rang again. In the shower, Molly sighed and turned of the tap and hurriedly dried herself; once again the jingle echoed through the apartment. Huffing, she shrugged on a T-shirt and slacks before shrugging on her robe as she walked up to the front door.

Most people would be surprised, scared even if the found that their door-lock was being picked. Molly merely stood, arms crossed, glaring at the door above her. Tapping her foot, she waited until the knob turned and the door opened.

She glared at Sherlock once before turning around and making her way into the kitchen.

"Sherlock Holmes, _what _have I _told_ you about breaking into my apartment?" she asked as she grabbed to mugs from the cabinet. She heard the rustling of fabric as Sherlock hung his coat on the rack.

"That I shouldn't. However, you were in the shower and I couldn't get in."

"Then you wait, Sherlock. You wait 'til I get out." Sherlock made a sound of disproval as he lounged on the sofa.

"Waiting is for all the small minded people in the world who have nothing better to do with their sorry lives." Molly put the kettle on, shaking her head, smiling.

"Are you calling me small-minded Mr. Holmes?" she asked as she walked into the living area.

"Yes." He stated plainly, as he flicked through the channels on the telly. Molly raised an eyebrow as she stepped in front of him, effectively blocking his view.

"Really? Okay, then Mr. I-Know-Everything, I'll just take my small-minded self somewhere else. I'm sure you can forgive me if my small mind forgot I'm dating you and takes Josh up on that offer. Or worse, I may forget and put milk in your coffee." She said smirking. She turned around to walk back into the kitchen, when she felt an arm looping around her waist. With a yelp, she fell backwards, her right side falling onto Sherlock and her left onto the soft cushions.

"NO, no milk." He said, holding her down as she tried to squirm away "besides," he said, leaning in to whisper in her ear, "I find you small mindedness somewhat…endearing." Sherlock moved his hand to cup Molly's face and tilt it towards his. He leaned down and captured her lips bringing it closer. He felt Molly grin against him and smirked back, leaning in. Molly was pushed back against the sofa and realised exactly where this was going, Her suspicions were prove correct when she felt Sherlock long finger work nimbly up her T-shirt. She laughed against the kiss before breaking in, still laughing. Sherlock looked at her incredulously.

"What?" he asked, looking absolutely bewildered and confused. "Who laughs while kissing?" he muttered before trying to claim her lips again. Molly chuckled and pushed Sherlock away.

"I don't know what's gotten into you Sherlock. Before we started dating, sex was a waste of your precious time, and now everytime you see me, you want to jump my bones. Now I'm not complaining, unless I'm at work of course, but is this to make up for over twenty years of no sex at all?" The kettle began whistling, so Molly unwrapped herself from Sherlock and made her way into the kitchen.

Sherlock followed her, waiting for the pathologist to set the boiled water down before hugging her waist from behind.

"It isn't my fault you're so delicious and irresistible." He muttered, leaning down to nuzzle his face into the crook of her neck. Molly sighed softly. It was times like these she honestly loved the best, other than the ones in bed of course. When they were at home, in private, Sherlock would be the most romantic, and well, domestic men she'd ever had. He made her feel comfortable and at home.

Molly set about making the tea, before setting it on the kitchen table and allowing herself to be enveloped in Sherlock's arms. She took in his musky scent and nestled herself into his shirt, feeling his heart thudding against his chest.

"A package came for you. I signed for it. It's on the coffee table." He said suddenly. Molly pulled back and swerved around him, heading back for the living room.

"Who was it from?"

"It didn't say."

"Well who was it from anyway? I'm sure you deduced it."

"I didn't."

"Oh, Sherlock, I know that you never listen to me and the word privacy isn't in that enormous vocabulary of yours. Just tell me." Molly grabbed the box and sat it on her lap as she fell back against the sofa. Sherlock leaned against the wall next to her, smirking.

"I think a little of my vast intelligence is rubbing of on you, Molly."

"Don't be a pompous git Sherlock, just tell me." she heard Sherlock chuckle as she examined the box. It was quite long, and a bit wide, but not very high. It was wrapped in plain wrapping paper of her favourite colour: purple. A bow that was a darker shade of the wrapping paper was tied neatly on the top. Writing in black ink was scrawled on the present neatly stating 'to, Molly'. She looked up, listening to Sherlock speak.

"I say by the colour of the wrapping paper, this person knows you quite well, as he picked your favourite colour. Either that, or the man got lucky. It is also the same person who sent you the flowers, as the bow on both presents are exactly the same. And judging from what the present is, this person definitely knows you very well."

"What's the present?"

"Unwrap it and find out, Molly." The woman stuck her tongue out childishly at Sherlock, before hurriedly unwrapping the gift.

Molly gasped as she took of the lid from the box. Nestled in protective paper lay a pair of very expensive looking shoes. They were very strappy stilettos, five inches at least, and were a shimmering, gold colour. As Molly inspected further, she noticed the bright dotted rhinestones over all the straps. She grinned as she tried them on.

"These are beautiful. Who bought these? They must have cost a fortune!"

Molly turned back to the unwrapped, empty box and looked inside in case there was a note she missed. Finding one, she flipped it over, reading the black, printed letters.

**Perfect shoes for a perfect woman. **

Molly grinned.

"Not sure about the last bit, but the first is so very true- these shoes are amazing!" she looked up to catch Sherlock scowling. The grin immediately fell from her face. Stepping out of the shoes, Molly walked over to Sherlock.

"What's wrong sweetheart?" she asked. The scowl deepened; Molly frowned, at home terms of endearment never affected Sherlock.

"What do you think, Molly?" he asked, moving past her and settling on the armchair nearest the telly. He switched it on and began flicking through random channels.

"If I didn't know, I wouldn't be asking." Molly stated calmly. Sherlock kept his eyes glued on the screen.

"This is obviously from an admirer."

"How do you know? It could be from one of my girlfriends. Hell, it's probably Mary being Mary." She stated.

"It isn't a woman. Women don't send flowers and shoes to each other, and I know what Mary got you. It is painfully obvious." Molly sighed. If Sherlock wasn't going to meet her gaze, she was going to make him. She walked around his legs, and kneeled on the ground, resting her chin and arms on the arm of the chair. She stared pointedly at him until her resignedly looked down.

"Even if it was an admirer, why do you care?"

"Isn't it obvio-of course not." He said "you like all this attention. Which clearly shows you aren't getting enough from me. Also, you're going to be prancing around in _those_." He said, spitting out the last word like a bad taste, while pointing at the heels lying innocently on the ground. At this Molly chuckled, earning a glare from Sherlock.

"Oh, Sherlock. You don't honestly believe I'm not getting enough _attention_ from you? We wouldn't be together if that were the case. But yes, I do admit I'm enjoying the gifts. It's nice to know that I'm still fanciable eventhough I'm taken- by you nonetheless. And the gifts are not something I receive very often, which I am completely fine with. Honestly Sherlock, and it's not like I'm going to wear those anywhere other than for formal functions, unless you don't want me to, then I won't." she moved up and walked around before settling herself on Sherlock's lap. "I love you and you know that, so stop being unreasonable and hammer in that loose nail in that big palace of yours." She said before trying to force Sherlock to look at her. After failing, she removed her hands and moved up to sit on the armrest. Tilting her head down, she let her hair fall over his face, tickling his nose. He batted away her hair, before glaring at her. She smiled softly at him, causing him to soften, slightly.

"I love you," she whispered, before kissing him softly. Pulling back, she cupped his face softly, tracing the lines of his cheekbones with her thumbs.

"Only you." She said, before capturing his lips once more.

0o0o0o0o0

Later found the couple lounged on the sofa, watching TV. Sherlock was sat in the middle, while Molly leaned against the armrest, draping her legs over Sherlock's lap.

"Who do you think the gift sender is?" she asked as she sipped her tea.

"Whoever he is, I don't think he'll try anything more than this on you."

"And why is that? Are you saying I'm unapproachable?"

"Of course not. The fool will just have to answer to me." Molly laughed shaking her head, moving around to plant a kiss on the edge of the detective's wide smirk.

**Chapter and Present Two down, ten more to go! Thank you to all the reviewers and followers, you guys keep me going.**

**Yukkin: Love you, man- you're awesome xx**

**Review?**

**-Ash **


	3. Chapter 3

**Reviews are the bomb. Love you all. Don't own Sherlock. **

"Let's see what's in it then," the nurse cries out, grabbing the long box from the pathologist's hand. Molly huffed.

"Mary, it's my gift, give it back!" she cried out reaching for it. The two women were settled in Molly's bedroom when the doorbell rang, alerting them of the presence of a courier delivery. After signing for it, Molly had taken in the long, Christmas wrapped gift. There wasn't a return address, or anything indicating whom it could have been from for that matter; all it showed was that it was meant for her- 'FOR MOLLY' was written in long, neat spidery handwriting across it in black ink.

Mary ripped open the wrapping paper and opened the box, facing away from Molly on purpose to block her view of the gift. She gasped loudly suddenly, before barking out a shocked laugh.

"Holy crap!" was all she said. Molly leaned over, trying to reach the box.

"What is it? Molly, give it over, now!" Mary handed over a large piece of deep scarlet fabric. Molly gaped like a fish out of water as she held out the dress by its shoulders.

"OH. My. _God_!" she gasped, scrambling of the bed to hold it against her body.

"Go try it on!" Mary squealed, shoving Molly into her bathroom.

Mary sat on her bed grinning. It was good that her friend was receiving so much attention. She knew that Sherlock was a good partner, but he was never the type to be so…romantic. And Molly always said she was fine with it, and Mary knew she wasn't lying about that, but every girl has a little compartment somewhere inside, that wanted something like this.

A corner of a pale mint green card flashed in Mary's view. She picked it up, out of the bottom of the box and flipped it over, reading it:

**A sexy woman deserves a sexy dress, doesn't she?**

0o0o0o0o

A couple hours later, Mary left, only to be replaced with Sherlock. Molly had immediately told him about the latest (third) gift. He had scowled profusely throughout.

"You like all this attention don't you?" Molly sighed.

"You wouldn't be asking if you didn't already know Sherlock. So what if I do, anyway? I _am_ a woman."

"That isn't an excuse. A man is giving you presents, and obviously declaring his _love_ to you, and you are excepting it- when you are with someone else." He muttered angrily. Molly groaned.

"Sherlock, come on, you know I only love- wait, _love?_ This man _loves _me? Are you sure about that?" Sherlock's eyes flashed with a growing anger.

"Are you attempting at questioning my deductions and conclusions? He obviously does- a man with a _crush_ wouldn't buy a woman such expensive gifts as a secret admirer. Honestly Molly, all this attention is clouding what little brain power you have."

The pathologist sat still and deadly calm in her seat across Sherlock. He was looking away, shaking his head; when he looked down he met angry glare from Molly Hooper. Her jaw clenched and unclenched. She took a deep breath before speaking,

"What _little_ brain power I have?" she asked softly. "Did you just call me stupid, Sherlock?" The man sat still, knowing it was not wise to answer.

"You do _not_ call your girlfriend _stupid_ after she puts up with all your childish _crap_. Yes I am getting attention, for once, and yes I am enjoying it. But do you really think that I'd be so _low _as too even allow this man; if he ever comes to light, make a move on me? I have no idea how long I am going to have to say that _I fucking love you_ before it gets into your thick skull."

She was standing up now, looking down on Sherlock, whose face was a hard stone mask, his eyes an angry glittering ice blue. He rose, gaining the height advantage. Looking down at her, he spoke softly, dangerously.

"Do not ever question the reliability of my extensive knowledge." Molly was barely affected by him; looking up she met his gaze.

"Nice to know that a blow to your ego and '_extensive knowledge_' trumps your girlfriends anger." She retorted, chucking humorlessly. "You know what? Get the hell out." She watched his eyes widen slightly in surprise.

"Get out Sherlock. Now. We'll speak later." She said, before spinning on her heel and moving into the kitchen.

She leaned her head against the dry plaster wall as she heard the door slam shut, rocking the few photos nailed next to her. She groaned, clutching her head.

Where was the Panadol?

0o0o0o0

Molly was getting more and more pissed of by the second. It was the next brush of his hand against her bum that caused her to explode in Dr. Joshua Feldman's face.

"Get _off_ me Josh!" she yelled, whacking his large hand away with her file. He brought it away, eyes wide with shock and anger as he cradled the hurt hand.

"What the hell was that for?" he cried out, anger coating his words.

"Stop-stop _touching _me! I have a boyfriend- leave me alone." She said. She was almost ready to knee him in his…ahem…treasure chest. She almost did when he came closer and placed a hand on her arm.

"Come on, Molls, I'm just playing." He muttered, his sandy mop of hair reflecting the bright fluorescent light. Molly brought up her small hands and shoved him as hard as she could. He fell against the hard body slab with a painful 'oomph!'

"Please leave, now, Josh." She said softly. "Now. The usual from the Yard are coming over, and I don't think you want any of this leaking out." She smirked slightly as she watched the fear paint over his eyes, before gulped, nodded and all but ran out the room.

00oo0o0o0o

"It was asphyxciation." Molly muttered plainly as she stood next to Anderson and Sherlock. She watched the smirk deepen on her boyfriend's face and the frown deepen in the forensics officer. She shook her head before going of to join the other M.D in the room.

"So I heard about your, um, tiff with Sherlock." John muttered to her. Molly sighed.

"Yes, well-"

"Yeah, he recounted the whole thing and I slapped him 'round the head." Molly chuckled.

"Thanks John. So are you and Mary going to the Yard's party then?" she asked.

"Haven't asked her yet." John mummered, shamefully.

"John, you idiot! Make sure you do!" she cried out, slapping his arm.

"ANDERSON- GET OUT. _NOW_." Sherlock yelled, stamping his foot and pointing to the door. Molly groaned.

"Anderson, just do what he says." Lestrade said, face-palming. Anderson slammed the door when Molly reached the spot next to Sherlock. Sally stood next to her, shaking her head.

"He may not be a freak anymore, but he still is an adult toddler." Sherlock looked down at her and frowned.

"I prefer the term man-child." Molly piled on Sherlock's frowned deepened.

"I stick with annoying git." John volunteered.

"John-"

"Shut up, yes I know Sherlock." John said, interrupting the detective. "Well, I'm off to go see my girlfriend, so, Sherlock call or text when you're ready."

The two police officers left soon after, leaving the currently estranged couple in the morgue, alone. Sherlock silently sat himself down on a stool and began examining slides in a microscope; Molly busied herself with the paperwork.

A throat clearing grunt echoed around the room; silence followed.

A cough sounded; silence followed, again.

Loud sniffing began. Smiling slightly at the childish antics, Molly turned to the source of the noise.

"Was there something you need?" she asked, sweetly. Sherlock looked up from his microscope, a look of feigned unknowing on his face.

"Now that you mentioned it, yes. Come here." Molly gave him a pointed look. "Seriously? No."

"Come here." He said again.

"No."

"Why?"

"I think you know. Your extensive knowledge can help you out, I'm sure." She sneered sarcastically. She heard him sigh.

"Molly," he said softly.

"Molly." He repeated again. Molly could almost here the hurt and apology. _Almost_.

"Mol-ly." He whined, dragging the syllables. Groaning to herself, she accepted defeat.

"Yes?" she asked.

"Come here…please." He muttered reluctantly. Smiling to herself, she stood up and walked over to his side.

"I knew you'd get it soon enough." He wrapped an arm around her waist and buried his nose in her side. She instinctively wrapped her hand around his head, cradling the soft curls, all previous anger forgotten completely. He murmured something softly.

"Pardon?" He looked up at her, his eyes calm and now a deep swirling grey.

"I apologise…for my over-exaggerated behavior yesterday." Molly eyebrows shot upwards.

"Did you just apologise?"

"Molly," he growled warningly. Molly laughed.

"Okay, okay, I forgive you. I'm sorry for bruising your massive ego. Am I forgiven?"

"On one condition."

"What do you need?" Sherlock pulled her sideways, causing her to squeal slightly in surprise. She fell onto his lap.

"I need a kiss."

"No, Sherlock. Not at work." She said sternly, trying to unwrap herself. Sherlock held on tighter, trapping her.

"Please? I didn't get any yesterday. Besides. By you pulse elevating and the rising blush on your cheeks, you obviously want one to." Molly smiled sarcastically. She leaned down and pecked Sherlock slightly on the lips.

She tried pulling away, but Sherlock held on tighter. They pulled apart, panting slightly.

"You git. That was so inappropriate." She said, slapping him playfully. Sherlock smirked. Molly smiled, before planting her lips on his cheek. She ruffled his soft curls before hopping out of his embrace.

"I'm getting coffee."

'Black with-"

"Two sugars, I know Sherlock." she said, smirking.

**Hehe, nine more prezzies to go. I know that I didn't really describe this one very well, but I am saving it for later. You get to 'see' it for real when Sherlock does. I know there isn't much Christmas but I promise the next few chapters will be **

**Love you all so much!  
-Ash **


	4. Chapter 4

**Thanks for all the reviews my ****lovelies! I want to own Sherlock so bad it hurts...**

Molly went through four days without receiving another gift from her 'secret admirer'. She was guilty to say that she actually missed the attention. She loved Sherlock with everything she had, truly, but he lacked that cliché Prince Charming romanticality that swept almost all girls of their feet. She didn't mind it, it was just a flaw she'd have to put up with as he put up with her's, but it sometimes left her wondering if he truly cared about her.

Then after a few minutes, she'd hit herself. Sherlock wouldn't be with her if he didn't.

So walking into the morgue on that cold December morning, Molly only smiled when she saw the tall gift wrapped (completed with a blue bow) present seated comfortably on her desk.

The card was placed in an obvious place this time- taped on the front of the present. She ripped it of and opened it, an eyebrow raising at the words:

**For all the times, past, present and future, when I should be there but am not. I am sorry for my misbehavior.**

The spidery writing was neat and easy to read. Molly swore she had seen that writing before, but from whom? She smiled and pocketed the card. Her gift unwrapping was interrupted, however, by the wheeling in of the latest dead body.

0o0o0o0o

"Do you have any idea who it is then?" Sally asked while sipping her cappuccino.

"I dunno, Sally, I honestly don't." Molly cradled her cup in her hands. "It's obviously not you or Mary, according to Sherlock it is a man. It's not Greg, I mean, he's got his wife, it's not James. Who else?" she asked. Sally thought for a bit.

"What about your, still can't believe I'm saying this, boyfriend?" she asked sniggering at the last words.

"Sherlock? Come on Sal, you know him- he can't be a romantic if he tried!"

"Have you given him the chance?"

"Loads- you know, we've been on a total of four official dates?" Sally spluttered.

"Four. Really. Don't lie to me."

"Am not."

"Okay so he's out. Maybe it's that sexy pathologist."

"I love him and all, but don't you think Mike is a bit to old to be considered sexy to us?" Sally rolled her eyes.

"NO, no, I mean John, or Josh or whatever- he's obviously taken a fancy to you."

"Josh is disgusting." Molly stated plainly. The women laughed at her bluntness. The conversation mellowed into more mundane topics before the women parted ways.

0o0oo0o0o

Sherlock groaned.

"Another one?" he asked as Molly set down the present on the kitchen table.

"Yeah," she asked looking around unsurely. She felt Sherlock's arms wrap around her from behind.

"Your eyes dart around when you are nervous. I am sorry that I make you feel this way about these gifts." Molly sighed, there was no use denying- he was Sherlock Holmes for Pete's sake.

"I know Sherlock, I just, don't want another fight." She sighed, leaning back against his chest. His arms tightened. She felt his lips move against her hair suddenly.

"Why are you smirking?"

"Do you know what the best part of fighting with you is?"

"There's a 'best' part?"

"The make-up sex."

"SHERLOCK."

"I'm merely stating the obvious." He murmured again, chuckling softly. Molly grumbled.

"You and your unsanitable libido. Besides, sex is not part of the fighting. It is the aftermath that you force me into after every fight."

"No, we do fight sometimes during-"

"Oh Sherlock, I love you, but do shut up."

"That's my line." Molly chuckled again, trying to untangle herself (she failed, Sherlock didn't want to let go). She dragged the both of them to the table, where she sneaked her arms out and began untying the bow to the present. Sherlock finally let her go and made his way to the door.

"It's a plush to teddy bear." He called out.

"SHERLOCK!" she yelled angrily at the spoiler, as the door slammed shut.

She unwrapped the bear and held in in her arms. It was big, yet at a huggable size. It was amazingly soft, and it's 'fur' was the smoothest cotton she'd ever seen. It was black, she noted, with cute button eyes. Looking at them, she realised the eyes were painted green, blue and grey. _Weird, but so cute_ she thought before carrying it carefully to her room.

0o0o0o0o0

Molly watched Sherlock with affectionate amusement as he had his conversation with his skull. She walked into the kitchen, making herself and him a cuppa each before settling down on his armchair. John entered the room.

"Hey, Molls. Just poppin' outta see Mary."

"Great. You ask her yet?" she watched the tip of his ears turn red.

"No." he said in a small voice.

"_John_. She's going to be devastated if you don't do it soon- the party's in two weeks!"

"I know, I know, see ya mum." He said jokingly. That earned him a deserved pillow to the head.

Molly waited for Sherlock to end his now turned argument with the skull.

"He's the worst isn't he?"

"So illogical." Sherlock agreed. Molly chuckled and stood up to allow Sherlock his seat. She sat on the armrest, but was pulled onto his lap.

"You just love physical contact, don't you? Who knew?" she teased, settling in a comfortable position. She lay horizontally, her neck against the armrest, her hair falling over. Her bum was placed comfortably between his slightly opened legs and her legs dangled of the right armrest.

Sherlock played absentmindedly with her hair. She leaned into the touch and sighed softly.

"The teddy's really cute." she said suddenly. Sherlock tensed, but she continued. "It really is, and it's eyes are quite interesting, so colourful. I'm going to give it to Micah."

"Why would you give it to your nephew?"

"Well, I'm not going to keep a present given to me by someone who isn't you, but it's so cute, and I don't want it to go to waste. It was so beautifully made, and handcrafted." Sherlock looked down on her.

"You like this one a lot, don't you." What he said was a statement that held no scorn or accusation. Molly looked up and nodded.

"When I was younger, when Matthew was a bully of a brother still, he took my only teddy and ripped it a part when I told on him. I never really got over it until I was about eleven. I lost Mr. Ted when I was seven, by the way."

"Mr. Ted?" Sherlock asked amused.

"Shut up. I'm not the one who still has his pirate ship at his mummy's house" Sherlock scowled at that. Molly laughed and kissed it.

"Have I told you you're really cute when you scowl?"

"Yes, many times. And I've told you this many times: I. Am. Not. Cute."

"But sweetheart, you are," she said, chuckling. Sherlock smirked.

"And do you know when you're cute?"

"When?" Molly's eyes narrowed suspiciously when the cheeky glint formed in his eyes.

"When you're laughing." He said, before bringing his fingers down on her sides.

"Sherlock-Sherlock- don't-AHHHHH" she screamed as the fingers began prodding her sides. She laughed, tears forming in her eyes.

Tears were streaming down her face when he finally let her go. Her energy left her, and she lay, limp on top of Sherlock. He smirked again, before leaning down and kissing the tracks on her cheeks.

"So cute." he said, earning another half hearted laugh. She picked herself up and settled on a crouched position on his lap. She nestled herself under his chin- a luxury she barely afforded because of their height difference. He leaned his cheek against her forehead.

"You can keep it."

"Keep what?"

"The bear."

"Really?" she asked looking up at him.

"Yes."

"I love you." She said softly, knowing she wasn't going to get an answer.

0o0o0o0o

Molly placed the last bit of tinsel in her apartment. It was now decked out and in full, kick-ass X'mas mode.

Sherlock on the other hand, was a big whiny child.

"Come on Sherlock, move your arse."

"Christmas decorations are pointless."

"You know they're not to me, come one. The family'll be here in a few days and I just want everything done. The tree can be done some other type later."

"I'm not doing any tree."

"Oh come on Sherlock, please?"

'Decorating a tree with cheap ornaments is neither logical or time consuming. It is absolutely pointless." He said. Molly huffed. She knew she wasn't going to win this.

"You're mean."  
"I know, and you love me for it."

"Shut up."

Sherlock chuckled before picking up the petite girl, spinning her around. She laughed as well, before wrapping her legs around his waist.

"I know I'm not very romantic, or into this 'spirit' thing but-"

"But you are a brilliant, intelligent, sweet when the time is absolutely right and downright gorgeous and sexy, so 'but nothing'." She said.

"Gorgeous and sexy?"

"But you're an ego-maniac." she pecked his lips "but definitely," she said kissing him again "not a sociopath." Another kiss "and definitely, not asexual. Quite the opposite I've come to learn." She smirked, as Sherlock kissed her again.

"Only for you." He muttered against her lips as he pulled her away to the direction of the bedroom.


	5. Chapter 5

"What is this?" Molly asked, an eyebrow raised at the wrapped cuboid held out under her nose. She trailed her eyes up the long arm holding it until she met Mary's twinkling eyes.

"Guess who's desk I found this on?" she asked smirking. Molly looked over at the wrapping. Messy, spidery writing was scrawled on the top:

**To Molly. I am sorry for all the wrong I have done and will do.**

She groaned, immediately recognizing a doctor's style of writing. And there was only one man she knew who wrote as horrible as that. She groaned, before unwrapping the present. She groaned again as she read the title.

"Who the hell told _him_ I love 'Pride and Prejudice'?

0000 _**hours earlier**_ 0000

Molly looked up as the doors to the morgue swung open. Her smiled disappeared as she saw the mop of sandy blonde hair begin bouncing towards her. She forced here eyes down, punishing her with a set of perfect baby blues, tanned skin and a lush pink mouth.

"Yes?" she asked defensively. The Oscar-nominated smile dropped.

"Hey, Molls, I am sorry about the last time. I truly, truly, truly am." Molly let out a bitter laugh.

"Go to hell, Josh."

"Wait Mo-"

"You almost broke us up! What the hell is wrong with you- you know for a fact that I am taken! " Molly seethed angrily.

"I-I did? Look Molly, it was just playful and-"

"Save it, Josh. Just save it."

000000_**present time**_000000

Molly sighed, grabbing her belongings and leaving the morgue. She hailed a cab, and the ride was silent as the young doctor sorted out how she was to say this to Sherlock.

"You are certain it is him?" Molly took a deep breath and nodded.

"Yes. Look Sherlock, I'll get rid of the book and the rest of the presents. All of them, I swear." She said, turning around to the direction of the bed room to collect the gifts.

"You don't have to." Sherlock said, after following her in. He turned her around and pried the gold dress from her hands.

"What? Sherlock. Seriously, no. All this has been affecting us and it shouldn't and-"

"Molly."

"I'm so selfish for not putting a stop to it and you've been such a _gentleman_ through this-"

"_Molly._"

"And you rarely are a gentleman, so this is quite strange. But I still am the most selfish girlfriend and this all has to-"

"_MOLLY_." Molly shut up, looking up at him and blinking. He smirked softly and chuckled slightly at her startled expression.

"This isn't going to affect us in any way. I wouldn't allow it. I can see how much these gifts mean to you, as I can see that they hold somewhat sentimental value to you. Besides, these gifts a not very cheap. Now the man who thinks he can beat _me _is a blithering idiot and is downright stupid, but we shouldn't let such expensive gifts go to waste. Especially when they make you happy."

Molly smiled up at him and wrapped her arms loosely around his hips.

"Really?" Sherlock rolled his eyes.

"Of course." He replied, humouring her with a small peck on the nose. Molly turned around and began re-folding the dress before placing all the other items in their original positions.

0o00o0o00o0

"You know, I never understood how he knew that I love 'Pride and Prejudice'." Molly muttered.

"He is friends with Mary isn't he?" Sherlock offered. Molly smiled.

"He is. She must have told him then." She replied, snuggling more into Sherlock's side. He wrapped his left arm around her small body before bringing up the rest of the blanket over them. Sherlock moved them so that they were lying comfortably on the pillows. He leaned over, kissing her.

"Sherlock." Molly moaned. He frowned. That was not the moan he was hoping to hear.

"What?" he asked irritably.

"Get of."

"Why?" Molly smirked, before shoving the detective of her and leaning up against the headboard. She switched on the side bed lamp and cracked the spine of the famous novel on her bedside table. Sherlock groaned, flipping over and burying his face into the pillow. He knew when all was lost.

"I knew I should've thrown the book out."

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

"So it worked?" the female voice whispered.

"Yes. It did." The muffled male one sounded through the phone receiver.

"Great. See? I told you she'd love that story."

"Yes, well, it was my idea. How did you know which story anyway?"

"Her friend told me."

"Is she part of it?"

"Maybe, probably, I don't know."

"Yes, well, I picked the right book in the end."

"But you wouldn't have gotten the 'right book' without me, now would you? Anyway, she's going to love it. I'd ditch any man for you if that was my situation. Good job."

"I know."

"Almost halfway through then. Seven presents to go."

"Yes. Seven presents."

The woman muttered her goodnights before ending the call. She smiled to herself as she snuggled into bed.

Her friend was going to have the best Christmas yet.

**OOOOOOHHHHHHH mysterious phone call- who are these partners (or maybe even trio) in crime? MUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA we'll have to find out shall we? See you next time folks!**

**-Ash :)**


	6. Chapter 6

**I want to own Sherlock- 'want' being the key word.**

Molly entered her flat, immediately kicking of her heels before flinging her bag carelessly on the couch, making her way to the kitchen.

A loud yowl sounded through the space.

"Sorry Toby," Molly muttered walking into the living room. She grabbed her cat, sighing, and placed him gently on the floor next to some cat treats as an apology. She sighed again, looking up and the sight of the man lounging on the couch made her groan.

"Not now, Sherlock." she said, dragging herself into the kitchen. The smirk on said man's face clouded to a frown.

"What did I do?" he asked incredulously, following his girlfriend. He found her grabbing to wine glasses from the cupboard above her, while clutching the neck of a green wine bottle. He watched her set everything on the small table, leaning against the wall. Uncorking the bottle, she poured the red liquid into the glasses.

'I know that look Sherlock." she said plainly.

"What look?" he asked, feigning innocence.

"The look," she started, humoring him "you have when you want _sex_." She said, taking a gulp from the glass. "To be frank, you're definitely not getting any now. And you know why." She muttered, taking a seat and resting her head against the hard wood of the table. Sherlock pouted, before moving behind her. He placed his hands on her shoulders, massaging them softly. He leaned down.

"Well, It is a good idea to relax after a long day of work, love." He whispered softly, planting a kiss on her temple.

"Shut up Sherlock, you know your _terms of endearment_ trick rarely works anymore." She retorted. "However, you really must be desperate if you're already jumping to that stage," she added thoughtfully. Sherlock's rebuttal was a light dig into her shoulder blades, causing Molly to moan.

"_Sherlock_," she said, looking up to meet his smirk "Go away, we have to get ready for that Christmas party at the Yard. Let's go. Now." She said, shaking his hands off and getting up. She grabbed her wine glass and downed its contents. She barely had time to set it down before her lips were covered be Sherlock's.

"Okay, Sherlock." she said pulling away "not now. Look- if you're good today; that means no deducing meanly and inconsiderately, I _may_ indulge you _later_. No go away and let me change."

Molly pushed the detective away and made her way to her room.

"Sherlock, stop following me."

"Why not?"

"Because I have to change."

"It isn't anything I haven't seen before. Take it as more of an opening act before the main show."

"Okay fine, it looks like somebody doesn't want to-"

"_Fine_, I'll go. Women are diabolical." The detective said, before turning around and muttering to himself as he made his way to the couch. Molly grinned before calling out to him.

"Love you to, _sweetheart_!"

0oo0o0o0o0o0oo0o0o

Molly smiled as she stepped out of her room. The shoes being her exact size was one thing, but the dress was a perfect fit for her curvy yet lacking of height body type. She smoothed down the creases of the deep red dress and hitched it up slightly. She was a bit conscious about the fact that it was completely sleeveless, and of course that long slit up on side, but even Molly herself had to admit that she looked great.

The fabric (thank god) ended at her mid thigh- not to short to be slutty, nor to long to give her the impression of a grandma. The slit was dangerously high, and it worried her slightly, but Mary _had _said it looked "more than fine" to quote. She nervously fluffed out her hair, and secured the straps of the gold heels before walking towards the man staring at the TV screen.

Upon hearing her enter the room, Sherlock stood up and switched of the telly, before turning around to look at Molly. His eyebrows raised as his eyes widened, taking in this new version of Molly. He'd never seen her look so…

Sexy.

Molly smiled shyly at his gaze before walking over to the coat stand to grab her coat. She felt Sherlock wrap his hands around her hips and pull her backwards against him.

"Sherlock I could've stumbled." Molly scolded, swatting his arm. He brought his head down.

"If you did, I would've caught you." He muttered back, grinning at her. She rolled her eyes at him, grinning back.

"How do I look?" she asked softly, turning around to look up at him. The pathologist was definitely nervous- she was never one to wear clothes so revealing, but, she thought she looked okay, and Mary said she looked amazing, and Mary never lied and…

"Tell me the truth," she said, when Sherlock merely stared at her "seriously, if it's no good I'll change, and besides, the dress and shoes are from the anonymous gift-bearer, so if you're uncomfortable I'll go-"

"No, don't change." He said, cutting her of from her rant abruptly. "You look unbelievably gorgeous, and beautiful. And so," he muttered, wrapping his arms around her, bringing closing the space between them "bloody _sexy_." He whispered against her ear before pecking it and moving over to capture her lips with his own. She broke away, giggling slightly. Molly hugged him, smiling softly.

"Thank you. Now let's go before we're late."

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

The party was in full swing. By the majestic, gold, red, silver and green decorated Christmas Tree lay wrapped presents from Secret Santas. Everyone present would receive one, as a sort of tradition performed by members and co-workers of the Yard. People stood in large groups or small clumps, most people beginning to feel the after effects of to much alcohol in their systems. The room was a cheerful symphony of laughter.

One man in particular who was definitely in a high of champagne and beer was one Detective Inspector Lestrade.

"…and then it _fell_!" he cried out, before bursting into fits of giggles and laughter, doubling over as his wife chuckled above him, looking over at him adoringly. Molly smiled at them, chuckling as she clutched her own champagne flute.

"It's nice to see him so happy." She said to his wife who just came back from seating him down somewhere. The woman smiled.

"Yes, he is a hilarious man." Molly nodded knowingly

"He is, and that part of him was muted ever since the…divorce. It's good that he has you, Sarah." Greg's new wife smiled.

"Thank you Molly. Well, I'd better get back to sobering the man." She said. The women hugged before Sarah walked of. Molly sipped her champagne, looking around the room.

"Molls, you seen Sherlock?" John asked.

"Nope, not since we got here. Why?" she asked. John laughed.

"No reason. There hasn't been a commotion yet and I'm scared he got kidnapped or left or something." It was Molly's turn to laugh.

"Don't worry- I promised him something he could never get by himself, or from me without my consent if he behaved." She said, winking. Molly waited for John to catch on, chuckling when he grinned with understanding.

"Good job, Molly. You have the one up on me now with this new threat you have. It's good he finally has a leash on him."

"Yeah, it is. And he's finally become civil with most people. Look, I found him." Molly said, pointing at the man in question, who was in deep conversation with one Sally Donovan. John raised his eyebrows.

"Bloody hell. They've become best buds haven't they now." He said, shaking his head.

"No way, you'd never loose that position. But it is good that he's making new friends."

"Yeah, it is. Our little man-child is finally growing up. Hey, I see that new pathologist from Bart's. HAsn't he been harassing you? Want me to –"

"No, it's fine John- I'll handle it. Go look for Mary- she's your _date _remember?" John nodded, before hugging Molly.

"You look stunning by the way. Mary said you secret admirer got you a lovely dress, and I have to say, you are gorgeous tonight."

"Thanks John. Now go tell that to your girlfriend!" she said shooing him away.

"Molly!" the pathologist groaned inwardly before plastering a fake smile on her face.

"Josh, hi."  
"I was wondering if I could steal you way for a dance." Molly sighed, closing her eyes. She suddenly felt and arm lacing around her waist.

"_Josh_, get off! I have a boyfriend! I've told you this!" she cried out, slapping his arm away. The man took it back, his face still a mask of confidence.

"Come on- it's not like he's here. It's only for coppers and co-workers."

"He works with us, Josh."

"You told me he isn't a copper."

"He isn't."

"Then stop lying, and just have one dance with me- I can show you things that will make you want to leave your _boyfriend_ in a snap." He said, snapping his fingers in emphasis. "Besides, he said, leaning down to whisper in her ear "he isn't even here to see anything."

Molly stepped back laughing. "You honestly are blur on top off being idiotic. You've met him multiple times, and I know you know exactly who he is. Don't try being in denial. And about him not being 'here to see anything'? Look behind you, _sweetheart_." A confused Josh straightened and turned around to meet the angry blue eyes belonging to the one and only Sherlock Holmes.

"I suggest that you turn around and walk away, never to speak, glance or even _think_ about Molly in any shape or form. I do believe a room full of coppers will not take well to sexual harassment to a woman who has been helping them in cases for over three years- especially when said woman has formed close relationships with certain members, while you are merely a hot-headed little boy, just fresh out of an intern-ship, newbie to this entire business. Let us not forget that she is also in a relationship with the world's only consulting detective, who has multiple ties to the British Government, and many owed favours from almost all hospitals in London, some of which can run you out of your jobs and keep you on the streets for life. Now, I know you don't want that, so don't make it necessary for these things to happen. Do we have an understanding?" Molly couldn't help but grin as Josh, once a wall of confidence, stumble away like a frightened mouse.

"Thanks, Sherlock." she said, hugging him softly.

"Nobody plays with anything that's mine."

"Possesive much?"

"You know you like that."

"Never said I didn't."

"Molly! You look unbelievable!" Sally Donavan gushed as she weaved her way towards Molly. The pathologist pulled away from Sherlock, who slunk away, to greet the woman. The fell into conversation until the Superintendent spoke into the mic, his words slightly slurred from the booze.

"It is now time for the Secret Santa!" he yelled "let's get into it, my wine glass is calling my name." the hall erupted with polite, and drunk, laughter "Thank you. First of is Detective Sergeant Arnold Newman!" a young man walked up on stage and received his gifts. Names were called, Molly's being the twelfth. At the end, when everybody in the room was holding a wrapped, anonymous present the Superintendent yelled at them to open them "at their own risk".

She saw Sherlock weaving his way towards her, so she met him halfway through.

"Mines from John- it's a few pairs of cufflinks and duct tape." He said, showing her the wrapped present.

"Open it then," she said, to which he obliged. He was right obviously, and written on the silver tape, in John's messy 'doctor's' was:

_**For when even Molly can't shut you up**_

Molly laughed at Sherlock's frown. She unwrapped her present, revealing a small, rectangular velvet box- a necklace holder. Molly's eyes widened when she opened it.

It was a simple silver chain. In the middle lay a small circular, doughnut shaped pendant with three hooks at the bottom, for clip on pendants. The middle was was already used, a small clip hanging from the hook, connected to a small silver key. She picked it up and turned the pendant over, looking for any clues as to who it was from, after searching in vain for a card. There was a small, engraved inscription and the back of the key.

**My Heart** it said plainly, in thin cursive letters. For the first time since opening the gift, Molly looked up at Sherlock.

"Was it from you?" she asked, receiving a curt headshake. His face was a poker face.

"Do you like it?" he asked curtly.

"What do-"

"Do you like it?" he repeated, a hint of irritance in his voice. Molly looked away. There was no use in lying- he'd tell a mile away.

"Yes." She said finally. Sherlock nodded slightly before turning around and loosing himself in the crowd. Molly looked back down. It was obvious that Sherlock deduced it was from her bloody admirer or whatever. She shoved the necklace in her purse with annoyance.

This arse was ruining her relationship.

0o0o0o0o0o0o

The couple walked into the woman's apartment, shedding their coats silently. The man quietly made his way to the bedroom before grabbing the sleep attire he kept for the times he spent the night, before making his way to the bathroom down the hall. Molly sighed- at least he wasn't angry enough to go back to 221B.

She shed her dress, sighing in relief as the tight confines were taken off. Molly rubbed her aching feet before grabbing for her nightclothes. She huffed with annoyance when she realised it was laundry day. She'd have to make do with a pair of shorts and one of Sherlock's cotton nightshirts.

She padded back to the living room when she was changed. Molly was greeted with the sight of Sherlock's curly head, bare neck and shoulders on the couch. She was taken by surprise before realising that it _was_ a pretty humid night.

"Hey," she said, pecking his cheek before settling next to him. His eyes glanced at her, widening slightly as he took in his attire on her before watching the telly again.

"Sherlock, can we talk?" she sighed, relieved, when he switched of the telly and turned to face her. She allowed her eyes to roam over his naked upper body before training them on his grey-blue orbs.

"I have something to say as well, but as it goes, ladies first." Molly took a deep breath.

"Are you angry with me? About the latest gift?" she asked plainly.

"Why should I be?"

"You know why." Sherlock stared at her, his gaze unwavering and calculating.

"Because you like it? Not necessarily, but I don't like that fact that you're beginning to stop not liking this person." Molly sighed.

"I know Sherlock, I'm sorry. It's just that these gifts are getting so personal and- Sherlock, you have to understand that eventhough I find all this flattering and what not, I'm still in love with _you_. _Only_ you."

"I know that."

"Good. You better know." Sherlock searched her face with his eyes before leaning forward and planting his lips on hers, hard.

Molly let out a surprised noise as Sherlock's hands made their way to her face. She ran her hands across his shoulders, feeling the defined muscle underneath. Sherlock broke away for air before kissing her again, this time rougher than before. He opened her lips with his tongue and made his way into her mouth, exploring every nook of the cavern, as if claiming his territory. Molly's hands made their way to his hair. She slid her fingers through the curls and clenched her fists as Sherlock ran his tongue over her teeth, before pulling away. She let out a disappointed moan that broke out into a pleasured one as his lips pecked a trail across her jaw and neck. Molly pulled at Sherlock's hair, causing him to groan against her pulse point. He kissed his way back up, slowing down.

He pecked her chastely on her forehead, cheeks nose and finally lips before resting his forehead against hers.

After a while Sherlock leaned back against the couch, placing Molly's head against his chest. She curled around him, bringing her legs up on his lap. She carelessly threw her arm over his stomach and looked up at him as he played with her hair.

"What were you supposed to tell me?" she asked after sitting there I content silence for a few minutes.

Sherlock moved them back up to a seated position.

"It's more of a showing and _then_ a telling."

"Okay then, what do you have to show_ then_ tell me?"

"Someone's eager."

"_Sherlock_."

"Okay, okay. But first, I need you to close your eyes."

**Thanks everyone who reviewed- and I hope I'll get more or this chapter! Hopefully I'll get the next one out tomorrow, but we'll see! Love you all!**

**-Ash **


	7. Chapter 7

12/20/2012

**I was going to put a little naughty M scene here, but then I thought, is it a good idea to risk it? So I thought and thought and thought and decided, as a little Christmas treat- the last chapter will bump the rating of this fic to an M- promise, promise, promise on the life of Benedict Cumberbatch, I promise.**

The next morning, Molly strolled into the lab, a dreamy smile glued on her dreamy face. After an entire night in bed, uh, not sleeping (in the direct meaning of the word) with Sherlock, you'd expect the pathologist to be worn, tired and probably aching. Instead, she was quite the opposite- the woman had taken to humming an unorthodox tune under her breath as she began her incisions on her first cadaver.

It was unfortunate to say, however, that a certain Detective Inspector didn't feel the same way. At all. Molly raised her eyebrows- smile still on her, as the said man dragged himself in with the help of his partner.

"Rough morning, huh?" she said cheerily at the man, who in reply groaned as he sank himself on Molly's stool. The pathologist chuckled to herself and resumed her humming. Sally Donovan, who was catching her breath- Greg Lestrade was _not_ the lightest man, looked over curiously.

"Someone's happy this morning." She stated. Molly hummed in reply, smiling at Donovan.

"Yupe," she replied, popping the 'p'.

"Really. Nice night in bed I'm guessing." It was more a statement than a question as Donovan picked up the cadaver's clipboard and began skimming the notes.

"Yupe," Molly said in the same way as before, maybe even a tinge more dreamily. Donovan laughed to herself and shook her head at her friend, when the doors to the morgue flew open with as much grandeur as it could in a cold, dank, white morgue.

"And his Royal Highness the Stubborn Adult Toddler has arrived." Donovan muttered under her breath, eliciting a chuckle from the pathologist across her.

Sherlock strolled in gracefully, hands knotted behind his Belstaff covered back. They released themselves to unknot the blue scarf from his neck, before shedding said black coat and draping both over a random chair.

A while later, a less grand entrance was made by the man's blogger.

"Okay, let's get this over with." Greg said, standing up and hobbling over to the body. "Cause of death, Molly?"

"Well from the bruising on his neck, he was obviously strangled. It was his cause of death, not the bullet wound to his chest. Back to the bruises, hands, not by a rope or device of any sort, made it. The two large bruises on the front of the neck are made by the thumbs, and the four at the back on either side, by the fingers. Judging by the size of the bruises, and by the fact that this man was killed with bare hands, I'd say our killer is a male. Vitals show no signs of poisonings." She concluded.

"Okay- Sherlock, what do you think?" Greg asked. As Sherlock jumped into a rant, Molly immersed herself in the paperwork. By the time everyone had said their goodbyes and left, Molly was almost done.

She screamed when arms laced themselves around her from behind.

"_Sherlock_! Don't scare me like that!" she yelled. Sherlock smirked.

"I'm sorry." He said, his tone anything but apologetic. Molly snorted.

"Yeah. Sure. Now let me go- I've got work to do." Her words only served to tighten his grip on her.

"_Sherlock_"

"Come on, Molly, I'm bored."

"I promise, as soon as I'm done." Sherlock huffed slightly before loosening his grip and allowing her to slip away. The two sat in silence for some time- Molly working; Sherlock, well, Sherlock was being Sherlock.

"Ah, Return of the Obsessive Admirer." Sherlock called out as he returned to Molly's table, holding out a large, wrapped cube.

"Where'd you find that?" Molly asked, more confused than ever

"On your work table. Honestly, Molly, I'd have thought that being with _me _would've made you more observant." Molly shot him a glare.

"Do you want me or not?" she asked the badly concealed innuendo clear in her raised eyebrows.

"You look _absolutely brilliant _today." Sherlock grinned, before pecking Molly on the cheek.

"Arse-kisser." Molly muttered "Lemme see it." She said holding her hand out. Taking the gift from Sherlock, she unwrapped it, revealing a deep blue box. Molly groaned when she saw the brand.

"Swarovski? Seriously? Doesn't this guy know that these gifts are for a lost cause?" she glanced at Sherlock, who was merely staring casually at her "it _is_ for a lost cause Sherlock- I'm just reminding you that I'm still staying with you. Material possessions are not going to change my mind." Sherlock chuckled.

"I know, I know." He said, "Now open it, I want to see how this fool outdid himself this time."

Inside the box sat two small, sparkling sapphires. Lifting them out carefully, Molly saw that they were little earring studs.

"Wow." She exclaimed softly, letting out a rush of air "This is, this is getting out of control." She said, turning to Sherlock "I-I can't accept these anymore- Sherlock, you have to find out who this man is. I have to tell him that nothing is going to work. I don't want him wasting his money on _me_."

"Of course, anything for you." Molly could swear he was about to say something else, but dismissed the thought when he turned away to collect his things.

"John's out for dinner with Mary- he'll be staying the night. You'll do the same?" he asked, as he was about to leave.

"Of course" Molly smiled.

0o0o0o0o0o0o00o

The coffee shop was a quiet one. It was full and thriving with business, but it's customers mostly consisted of studious college and high school students; civil servants trying to find peace, behind white mugs of hot coffee and the paper, during their lunch breaks away from work; senior citizens coming in for lunch; and, as every coffee shop needs to be complete, multiple young adults, working studiously on their laptops with the next _New York's Bestselling_ novel.

There was a slight anomaly today, cashier/ drink maker noticed. Huddled in a secluded corner were three people- two women and a man, in deep conversation. He was to far away to eavesdrop, of course, but couldn't help but look on at this alien action in his workplace.

His coworker, the dishwasher/ waiter overheard everything, of course. He mentally recorded as much of the dialogue he could to later tell his friend- even boring gossip was good gossip when you worked in a place like this.

Woman 1: So the first one down. Three more of these to go.

Man: You mean six down, six to go.

Woman 1: Don't try to be smart- you know exactly what I mean. The first six were merely things to set it all going. These next four are the build-up, the next one the climax and the last just to add some 'umph' to the blissful after effects.

Woman 2: You're very dramatic. Who knew?

Woman 1: Speak for yourself.

Man: Can we please get back to the topic at hand?

Woman 2: Okay, okay. Look- you need to make these next three have to be meaningful. When is she supposed to know who the culprit is?

Man: The last of these four.

Woman 2: But didn't you say that the second last was the one where only the culprit and her are privy?

Man: Yes- and that is why you *******indicates to Woman 2*** have to get her to tell.

Woman 2: _Me_? How?

Man: You'll find a way.

Woman 1: Can I ask- why are you even helping us. I can't believe our culprit told _you_ of all people. He didn't even tell-

Man: Yes, well, despite everything, we still are close, and well his _friend_ is a horrible secret-keeper. Also, I will be supplying one of the gifts. Here it is ***brandishes gift***

***Woman 1 and 2 gasp***

Woman 1: It's beautiful! When are you giving it?

Man: Now- here he is to collect.

The worker looked up to see a second man stroll in casually. He was less intimidating than the one seated, but still cast a fairly dangerous aura.

Man 2: I believe he has informed you to the latest?

Woman 1: Yeah, he has. Crap! Break's over- I gotta get back. See you soon, guys.

Woman 2: Yeah, just gotten a call. See you guys. Good luck you **(to Man 2)** don't muck it up- she's dear to both of us.

Man 2: Obviously. She is to me too.

The two women left the store as the second man took a seat across the other.

Man 1: Here it is- I hope it is too you satisfaction.

Man 2: Of course it is, seeing where it is from. I just hope she'll be impressed.

Man 1: Is that fear and nervousness I hear?

Man 2: Shut up you annoying man.

Man 1: You know I won't listen. I have to take my leave. Work calls.

Man 2: Of course it does.

Man 1: You are welcome. And I hope all goes well with you and your plan. And thank _you_ for allowing me to participate. It's good for both of us that I am allowed in your life, willingly, for once.

Man 2: ***nods***

The first man made his move to leave, but was stopped by the second with a hand on the others arm.

Man 2: Thank you

The first man gave a curt nod and what looked like a smile from where the worker was, before turning around. The eavesdropper and the man were face to face.

"You are very lucky that you didn't just hear an assassination or government based plot just then, I would've had to kill you. Eavesdropping gets you nowhere, child, trust me." he said to him before leaving. The man seated at the table chuckled.

"He's right, I have to admit." He told the boy. The latter gulped before grabbing his mop and jogging to the other side of the café.

0o0o0o0o0o0o

"I found a note in the box." Molly said casually.

"You did, did you?" Sherlock asked absentmindedly, plucking his guitar.

"Yeah, it said '**Something Blue**' on a piece of blue card. Wonder what that's supposed to mean." Molly looked over to Sherlock, who shrugged in return.

"I'm going to make coffee- want any?" she said, heading to the kitchen.

"Yes."

"Yes what?"

"Yes, black with two-"

"Honestly, Sherlock. I know your mother has taught you manners, because she has impeccable ones herself- but don't think that deleting them isn't going to make me teach them to you again."

"Yes, please." Sherlock said "mother" he muttered in an undertone.

"I'm you mother now, am I? Okay, fine- but remember, mother's don't have sex with their sons. It's incest and probably illegal, so, I'll just make your coffee, tuck you in and be on my way."

Molly stood in the kitchen, waiting for the water to boil. She heard him come in, so turned around smirking.

"Anything you need, dear?" she asked in a false mother-y voice. Sherlock smirked before walking up to her and placing his hands behind her, his fingers brushing against the top of her bum.

"You." He whispered softly, the smirk set in stone.

"Well Sherlock, I believe you should find your girlfriend, then, because the only people in here are you and your _mother_." She said peeling her hands away.

"Are you sure?" he asked, backing her against the counter. He placed both hands on either side of her, trapping her between him and the stone countertop

"Yes, very sure, _dear_." Molly said, surprisingly still in control of the situation.

"Well, I don't remember my mother as a brunette, or this short." He said.

"Well, heels and hair dye does the trick." She said, playing along.

"I don't remember my mother ever letting her hair down from a bun, anywhere." He said, holding a mat of hair in his fingers, before letting them slide off. He then traced the fingers across her face, and down her neck. He smirked as her breath hitched when it travelled over the mound of her breast and across her stomach.

"It's a cold day, dear." She said, doing everything in her power not to kiss him when his hand splayed over her hip, his thumb rubbing circles on the flesh just on the inside of her hipbone.

The whistle from the kettle saved the day.

"Come now, let's go make your coffee." Molly paced herself, taking her time with making the coffee. Sherlock stayed way, not interfering in case there was an accident with the scalding water. She took the time to control her breathing and heart rate. When she was done, she turned around holding the cup to be treated with the sight of Sherlock, arms crossed, leaning against the doorjamb to separating the kitchen from the living room, one leg coiled around the other. A stray curl was left on his forehead; the light reflected the Greek God sculpture that was his face; and his eyes were little rings of deep blue surrounding a two very blown up pupils (she had to smirk at this- who knew Sherlock had a coffee kink? Or a role-play link- she'd have to do more research later on). All in all, Sherlock, in all his casualness, was the current epitome of sexy. Taking a breath Molly calmed herself down.

"Coffee's ready."

"I don't think I want coffee anymore. I have something more _delectable_ in mind." Molly suppressed a shiver at his words.

"Do you now? Well that will have to wait, darling. I can't have my little boy getting dehydrated." Molly watched Sherlock scowl at Molly and knew she wouldn't be able to hold of any longer. But, if she was going to go down, he was going down with her- and this time, she was the pilot.

"You know what?" she said, strolling towards him "If you drink it now- you get to play with you toys right after." With that, Molly sauntered out the kitchen to the direction of Sherlock's bedroom.

Sherlock almost burned his throat drinking that coffee.

Molly was sitting on the armchair in Sherlock's room. Well, lounging was the better term to use. She draped a leg over an arm and the other was left to fall normally over the seat. Her body was diagonal, so her head leaned against the right side of the cushioned back, her elbow resting on the right chair arm giving it support. Her other hand was holding the book she kept at his flat- she was trying to read it, but everytime she was here, she was otherwise distracted.

"Awww, I was hoping to get in a few pages rather than paragraphs this time." She whined when Sherlock jogged into the room. He growled lowly.

"Read later." He said before picking up the book and flinging it away. He crashed his lips against her, surprising Molly, simultaneously unbuttoning his shirt. Molly hands immediately wound themselves into his hair and brought him even closer. Their mouths opened and their tongues began a battle for dominance, one Molly lost when Sherlock, who had chucked his shirt away, placed his hands against the underside of Molly's breast. She moaned louder than she'd care to admit and broke away as Sherlock's hands wandered higher.

He came in closer and brought up a knee onto the chair. Molly wrapped her legs around his waist and allowed him to pick her up. She captured his lips when his hands held her back for support and drove her own fingers into his hair. He groaned when she tugged slightly against his scalp, causing her to smirk against his lips. Sherlock reached the foot of his bed and threw Molly onto it. She laughed.

"Someone's eager. Do you ever get tired?" she asked as she backed up onto the pillows. She raised her head to look at him.

"Of you? Never." He said, crawling up to her "You?" he asked as he trailed his hand over her shin.

"Never." She replied. "Way to gorgeous," she added as his hands went past her thighs "and brilliant" they trailed past the hem of her shirt, toying with it before moving onwards "an absolutely amazing lover." The fingers were now at her lips. She nipped them slightly "but you're such a _tease_." Sherlock laughed, before moving upwards to peck her on the lips.

"I know." He replied. Molly chuckled at his comment- chuckles that were quickly turned to moans that would've caused John to wince if he was actually even in the apartment.

**Thanks everyone for the reviews! Hope you enjoyed this chapter!**

**Please review- they make my day!**

**-Ash **


	8. Chapter 8

**Next chapter! I don't own Sherlock**

Sally Donovan shed her coat on the rack provided in Molly's apartment. Kicking of her shoes, she made her way to the living room, where the owner and her best friend sat.

"Hey," the DS greeted, taking a seat on an armchair. The two other women greeted her with hugs all round. Once again settled, Mary asked the question on both her and Sally's mind.

"What happened Molly?" the said woman fiddled with the cork of a wine bottle, before yanking it off. Grabbing the three glasses laid out on the coffee table, she poured out the wine silently.

Once the glasses were handed out, and the three women had begun sipping, Molly answered the question.

"I need to know who my 'admirer' is." Molly was certain she caught a glance between her two friends and narrowed her eyes. Her suspicions were already becoming clearer.

"Why would you want to know?" Sally asked, cheerfully "Isn't it so much more exciting to be receiving these anonymously? Adds to the mystery." She said waving her hand around for emphasis. Molly sighed.

"Trust me, girl to girl, I'm in love with the attention."

"You are?" the DS asked, "Then why do you want it to stop?"

"Don't get me wrong, the attention I'm getting is amazing, it really, really is. But I _am_ with Sherlock, and I know he isn't the very affectionate type in public and even at home when he's on a case, but I still love him; I feel that accepting all these gifts may break us apart- he was angry when I got the shoes, but other than that he's remain emotionless on the topic and I think that scares me more. On top of that, the last gift was from bloody _Swarovski_- who spends that much money on a taken woman?" Molly concluded her speech with a gulp of wine and a groan.

"A lover?" Mary offered, smirking as she swirled the drink in her hands. Sally snorted at this.

"Yeah, a lover. Like anyone would ever cheat on Sherlock Holmes. Unless of course, it's Tom Hardy." Mary stared at Sally, her nose wrinkled in distaste.

"Tom Hardy? Disgusting! Have you seen how much weight he had to put on for Batman?"

"Seriously? Have you seen him prior and after?"

"Yes- disgusting!"

"Disgusting? _You're_ disgusting!"

Molly laughed and shook her head at her friends. She got up, letting them argue over Tom Hardy in peace, and made her way to her room. She set down her wine glass and began folding away her clothes. She picked up the red dress from the Christmas party and held it out. Her eyes also caught sight of the necklace that was looped around a jewelry box and the closed cube that held the studs. She sighed. Molly had gotten very flattering notes from all the gifts, except one- all of them not even giving her the slightest clue as to who this man was- other than the fact that he thought her to be sexy and beautiful. Flattering, but very unhelpful.

The last note was a bit of a mystery- 'something blue'? What significance did that have to anything in her life? She was pretty sure this person knew her favourite colour (purple) by the first few wrapping on all the presents. What could it mean? Molly had spent the last to nights racking her brains. She would've asked Sherlock, of course, but the detective and his blogger friend were of on yet another case, this time, unfortunately, all the way in Edinburgh. Her heart twisted slightly when she remembered just how far away he was from her, and how long they'd been apart (five days, two hours, fifty two minutes).

Molly grabbed her phone from the nightstand. Turning it around in her palm, she wondered if it was a good idea to send a text. She was constantly frightened that she would distract him, or give away his position. It would kill her if he got hurt. She debated back and forth before finally unlocking the screen.

She tapped the message icon and scrolled down for Sherlock's name. Quickly, her fingers tapped at the keys, typing out a quick message.

**How's the case so far? Rating? –M xx**

Sending the text, she put her phone in her pocket and gulped down another mouthful of wine. If the case was anything above an eight, she wouldn't be receiving a reply. Anything below a six and he'd probably excuse himself to call her. Unless of course, he was wounded somewhere…

Molly shook her head; erasing the thought- Sherlock was always just fine whenever he came back from a case. Beaten up and tired, but completely fine- and that's how it would be that time as well.

She walked back out into the living room, where her two friends were still arguing. They were now merely going back and forth with.

"He _is_ hot!"

"He is _not_!"

"Is _to_!"

"Is _not_!"

"Is _to_!"

"Is _not_!"

"Is _to_!"

"Is _not_!"

"Run out of _intelligent_ things to say, huh?" Molly asked as she sat back down on the sofa. Both women "hmphed" at her and crossed their arms. Molly laughed just as the doorbell rang.

"Where you expecting anyone else?" Mary asked

"No, not today, wonder who it could be." Molly answered as she walked over to the door. She put on the safety chain before opening the door a crack.

"Yes?" she asked the man outside.

"Hi, I have a delivery for Molly Hooper?" the man asked nervously. _A courier_ Molly thought but was still uncertain- who'd want to send her something by courier? Unless…

"Who is it from, may I ask?"

"Uh…it says from your Secret Santa?"

"Thank you, hold on." Molly shut the door, and removed the chain. She groaned.

"Who is it?" Sally called out, heading towards her. Mary followed behind.

"_Another_ one."

"Ooooh goody!" Mary squealed, before flinging the door open, narrowly missing Molly's nose. The startled courier on the other side stared with wide eyes.

"Hi, I'll just sign for that, Mary said, signing the papers with an excellent forge of Molly's signature, before grabbing the small, wrapped box.

"Thanks, have a great day!" she trilled before shutting the door and hopping back to the living room.

"You'd think she's the one with the admirer." Molly grunted, leaving. Sally chuckled, following.

"What's in it then?" Molly asked, sitting down next to Mary, who'd unwrapped the box.

"I dunno- looks like more jewellery. Open it."

Mary was correct about it being another piece of jewellery. There wasn't a brand, Molly noticed, but the bracelet was beautiful. It merely consisted of two overlapping curves, almost like DNA without the strands in-between. The silver was untarnished and was in pristine condition. Small, what looked like sapphires and emeralds, dotted the surface of the entire bracelet. They were small, barely noticeable, but sparkled when light was reflected of them. Molly stared at the band in wonder and amazement.

To put it in a single word, it was beautiful.

"Try it on." Mary urged, before taking the gift and slipping it though Molly's hand. She held it out, and the three women stared at the elegant bracelet, watching the light dance and sparkle over it.

"Hey, look, there's a note with it." Sally said suddenly, reaching over to grab a weathered piece of card. She handed it over to Molly.

The card was old and wrinkled, but smelled like strongly if tea.

"Someone tea-bagged and crumpled this up. This person really did go extravagant- even with the cards." Molly stated, turning it over her hand. On the other side, this time written in the same spidery writing as some of the other cards was another two-word note.

"**Something old**" Moly read out. She looked back at the bracelet. "Old? If it is then this was kept in amazing condition- it had to be dear to this person." She exclaimed.

"This man must really like you then." Mary said, stating the obvious

"Yeah…"

0o0o0o0oo0o0o

A while later, after Sally left, Mary and Molly sat in the latters bedroom conversing about random things.

"Have you heard from the boys?" Molly asked.

"Yeah, John called a few days ago- said they were in the middle of the case. Sherlock was really into it, he told me. So I'm guessing you haven't heard anything, then." Molly sighed.

"Not yet, I just hope they're alright." Mary turned over to look at Molly.

"You really love him."

"Of course. I'd love to say the feelings mutual, but…"

"I wouldn't be so quick to say that." Mary answered.

"What do you mean?"

"I know you haven't noticed this, but I've seen the way you are with him. How you're always next to him, smiling around him, you're always happy no matter what when he's there. I know he's crap at doing the same, but he has his own ways. You know, a lot of the time, when you're doing work or just not looking at him, he stares at you, a lot. Not in a creepy way- in a way every little girl dreams of. I've seen him smile when he looks at you- a peaceful one. It's really sweet. And you should see him when you guys split up in a party or something. No matter who he talks to, his neck is always craning to look for you. I know he doesn't say anything, but his body language screams it all." Molly smiled. Who knew Sherlock was that into her?

Somewhere in the room, Molly's phone chimed.

"I think I'm just about to hear from him." She picked up the phone and clicked the message icon before scrolling down to the latest message.

**7- almost an 8, but nothing I can't do. On our way home SH**

"They're on the way back."

"Really? Well then, I gotta go!" Molly laughed.

"Okay, okay, see you Mary."

"Of course." She replied, hugging her and pecking her on the cheek before leaving the apartment. Molly sighed, lying back down on the bed.

He was finally coming home.

0o0o0o0o0

She must have fallen asleep somewhere in between, because she was woken up when she felt her bed dip on the other side. She rolled around and saw Sherlock, his back turned to her, sitting at the edge, throwing of his shoes and socks. She watched silently as he shed his shirt and trousers before getting up on her knees and hugging him softly from behind.

She felt him lean back into her as she placed kisses on his back. She moved upwards, resting her chin on his left shoulder. Molly tilted her head to the right, allowing her cheek to lean against his.

"Christ, I've missed you so much."

"My name's Sherlock, but okay." Molly laughed softly, running her hands over his chest, until she felt something that was not his smooth skin.

"You've been hurt. Sherlock, turn." He did so, reluctantly, revealing and angry wound on his left pectoral.

"Oh my…what happened?  
"Stab wound- it's not deep- stitches weren't required." He said, moving forward to cup her cheeks. "I'm fine." He said, pecking her softly.

"Promise?" she asked resigned.

"Promise."

"Good, now I have to sleep." She turned around pulling Sherlock to drape his arm around her waist as she got herself comfortable.

She turned around sleepily, and pecked his nose and lips.

"I have no idea what I'd do without you." She said softly.

"Me either." He replied, nuzzling her jaw.

"I love you so much." She said finally, before pecking him goodnight and turning around. Molly thought she heard him say something back, but sleep enveloped her before she had the chance to ask.

**Thank you to all the reviewers, you make my day- and to the followers and the favourites. You guys rock!**

**-Ash **


	9. Chapter 9

Molly trudged down the stairs of her old apartment building, stopping at the main lobby.

"Morning Mr. and Mrs. Callaway!" she greeted too the elderly couple seated by the fireplace. The man looked over his newspaper as his wife looked up from her knitting; both broke into grins when the recognized Molly, and greeted her with 'good morning's and 'have a Merry Christmas's.

Once they got back to their own things, Molly couldn't help but watch them a while longer. They were quiet with each other, but if one watched long enough, you could see them looking over their work, exchanging secretive glances at each other, both in their own, personal world together.

She smiled softly at the sight, before turning around to face the wall of mail-lockers. Molly wanted that for her life since she was little girl playing dress up with her mother's old wedding dress (it was way too big, of course, but at least gave her practice with heavy fabric and mile-long trains); yet she knew that that may be out of the question, especially if she was going to continue her relationship with Sherlock.

She smiled again at the thought of him- he was no hopeless romantic; or a man who showered her with gifts and kisses every morning; and she always walked around with a fear in her heart everytime they parted ways that that would be the last time she'd see him alive, due to his choice of self-appointed profession.

The young woman wrapped her light coat tighter around her frame (it was _cold_) and stopped at her locker. She retrieved the small metal key from one of her pockets before unlocking the small, metal, square vault.

The pristine, white envelopes she pulled out were just a pile of bills, and the monthly rent of her flat. Of course, that's all mail consisted of, it was so much easier to just e-mail, text, or call. She was about to shut the locker when she caught sight of a small, very small, cubed, brown-paper wrapped parcel.

Frowning, she grabbed it, shut her locker and turned around. Her surprised yelp was muffled when she crashed; face first, into a black suit jacket and wine-coloured shirt.

Molly pulled away, coughing- cotton clothes do not taste very nice, and looked up to glare at the smirking man above her.

His hair was damp, so his raven mop of curls was slightly tamed and fell around his face and ears. A single dryer curl sat on the middle of his forehead, giving the detective a slightly boyish look- not that his attitude to certain things already wasn't.

"_Sherlock_. Imagine what would've happen if I screamed." The scolding only served to widen the smirk.

"You would've been embarrassed." Molly scowled

"Don't try being smart with me." she said, before pushing past him, towards the staircase. She gave fleeting smiles to the couple by the fireplace, before beginning her walk back up to her apartment.

Molly definitely wasn't angry at Sherlock, but decided to torture him, just a little more. When she reached the top of the first flight of stairs, a hand on her forearm twisted her around. Once again, she was face to face with a purple and black clad chest. Molly trailed her eyes upwards, slowly, upwards until the stopped, meeting his gaze.

"Yes, Sherlock?" she asked coolly.

"Nothing. Just enjoying the view."

'Well the _view_ needs to get up to her room." She said before continuing up the stairs.

The walk up the next to flights was silent, save for the couple's footsteps. Molly could literally feel Sherlock's gaze and smirk burning a hole through the back of her head. She was halfway up the first step on the last flight of stairs, when two large hands held her hips and pulled her backwards.

This time she did yelp, her stomach flipping painfully inside her as her back landed hard against the front of Sherlock's body. She felt him grunt with the force behind her.

Squirming out of his grasp, she turned around.

"Sherlock, what is _wrong _with-" Molly didn't miss the fleeting look of pain on Sherlock's face, and was about to ask, when the usual smirk and gaze replaced it. He pointed up, casually, distracting her. She didn't notice him leaning in.

"Mistletoe." He whispered softly- Molly almost jumped a mile.

"Sherlock, what is it with you and scaring me today?" she scolded, her smile giving away her charade. He smirked.

"It's fun- besides, your face flushes every single time. Reminds me of many _other_ times you do that." He smirked, allowing the implication to settle freely in the air. Molly flushed even more at the thought, shaking her head at him.

"Unsanitable libido." She muttered. Molly turned around to walk back up the stairs. Again, she was stopped.

"Yes, Sherlock?"

"Mistletoe." He said again.

"So?"

"So-" he said, dragging out the word as he leant down to her level, to whisper "this." Before he covered her mouth with his. She immediately responded, wrapping her hands in his wet hair, shaking some cold droplets on her. Not that she cared; suddenly, it wasn't so cold anymore.

Sherlock straightened, walking forwards, forcing Molly to walk backwards up a few steps. She stumbled, multiple times, each time pushing them closer into each other, causing both to moan into each other. Their tongues were back exploring familiar caverns. Now at the same height, Sherlock straightened fully, before grabbing Molly's hips. He hoisted her up and towards him, giving her space to straddle his waist. She held on tight as he ambled up the stairs.

Once reaching the top, he dropped her, not breaking the kiss. The held onto each other, oxygen somehow not being a necessity; suddenly the door to the apartment across her opened.

"Come _on_ Tom! Get your fat arse out here so we can take a bloody walk! Honestly I-" the blonde female standing at the door stopped abruptly when she noticed the very flushed and panting couple in front of her.

"Morning, Lydia." Molly fake smiled. Lydia merely sneered, looking down on the shorter woman,

"Finally got a new beau than, have you? What are you, another IT technician then?" She asked, the last question aimed at Sherlock. When she caught sight of him her perfectly waxed eyebrows raised appreciatively. Molly, on the other hand, flinched at the reminder of Jim from IT and how he was actually _in her apartment_ and a pint in time. Sherlock face turned into a stone mask, not the usual carefree charade he put on when he met someone new (well it was the expression right before he deduces them harshly- after that, he'd just smirk).

Molly groaned inwardly, Moriarty's fling with Molly was a very touchy subject between her and Sherlock.

"No he isn't-" Molly started before she was interrupted

"No, no I am not. Perhaps you've heard of me, I'm Sherlock Holmes." He said, glaring down at the unwavering blonde. She give him a disbelieving, lazy look, and twirled a bleached lock of hair. She leaned forwards, exposing the prosthetic tops of her cleavage.

"Yeah. Right." She said nasally "another one of them impersonators. But I do have to admit, you are quite the looker." She said, smirking up at him. Molly rolled her eyes at Lydia as she pranced up to Sherlock, and turned around to unlock the door to her own apartment.

"I suggest, Lydia, that you lean back a little, and perhaps buy a larger track-top because I don't think anyone wants to see your prosthetic breasts, all paid for by your very rich, but absolutely useless boyfriend. One that you are with, solely for the money. Now wouldn't he love to know that that's all you're in for? It would be _devastating_ if he found out." He muttered softly. The other woman looked up, shocked. Molly watched her as she leant against her doorframe- her mouth was flapping open and closed like a fish out of water.

"Now I suggest you just go back into your little apartment, back to your boring, idiotic life, and if ever Molly and I have the unfortunate _displeasure_ ti come across you again, you are to leave. Immediately." He glared her down, hard. Molly frowned- he was being unnecessarily mean. She made her way forward to stop everything, but the blonde had squeaked and slammed the door to her apartment.

Sherlock turned around, met Molly's frown, and scowled even more before walking into the apartment. Molly followed after.

"Sherlock." she called, to his back, receiving no response. He sat back silently on the sofa and channel surfed on the telly. You could actually hear how hard he was clicking the remote buttons over the chaos from the telly.

Molly sighed- angry Sherlock was as energy depleting as a tantrum-throwing toddler. The only difference was that instead of lying on the floor, beating fists and crying angry tears, you were met with cold, harsh ignorance. Honestly, crying babies were easier- at least they _responded_.

Thankfully, Molly knew exactly where his anger was centered. _Thanks a lot _Jim_… _Molly thought as she made her way to the sofa. She sat quietly next to him for a few moments, watching him glare impassively at the screen. Diving straight into the problem would just fail the entire mission.

After awhile, Molly took a deep breath and turned to Sherlock.

"Sherlock?" she called out tentatively. He didn't respond. Placing her hand on one side of his face, she trailed her finger across his cheekbone, and over his cheek. She brought them back up to his temple, where Molly fisted her hand and tapped gently against him.

"You in there?" she asked, a smile playing on her lips. He turned to her, and glared hard at her. The smile vanished as he stood up and walked to the direction of the bedroom. He didn't slam the door shut, but the thud was still loud enough to make her flinch.

Molly sighed, knowing it was useless at this point. She stood up, stretched, and made her way to the guest bathroom to shower.

She came out, her hair wrapped in a lavender towel turban while her body was clad in a fluffy blue bathrobe. The living room was silent and empty. He was either gone, or still in her room. Molly seriously hoped it was the latter- she hated fighting with Sherlock.

Her room was bright, even though the lights were off. The curtain and windows were open, leaving a glare in Molly's eyes. She blindly made her way over to them, shutting the windows and draping the curtains. Flicking on the light switch, Molly glanced down at the male figure sitting upright at the edge of his bed. Molly sighed; he hadn't even looked at her- he was in his mind palace again.

Her cupboard was quite messy, but Molly didn't have a very difficult time finding a pair of shorts with printed cartoon pandas all over and an old university T-shirt to wear. It was not like she had plans to go out anyway; besides, pandas are cute.

Once done changing, Molly turned around to face Sherlock, who was still in his trance. His posture was stiff and rigid, even though he was hunched over to rest his chin on his clasped fingers. She climbed onto the bed and crawled behind him. He twitched slightly when the bed first dipped with the new weight. His hands fell from their clasped position and straightened. Molly took that chance to wrap her arms around his waist and clasp them hard against his stomach.

She kneeled up and rested her chin on his shoulder, right next to his face. He face turned cautiously towards hers, causing his nose to bump into her cheek. Hastily, Sherlock turned his head forward again. Molly let out a slightly disappointed noise and leaned her head down to the nuzzle his neck softly.

"I know why you're angry. It's the past Sherlock. You know I would change it if I could. Just, _please_ stop being angry with me." she said softly.

"I know that I was the one who led him to you and everything, and I definitely deserve you being pissed of at me and-" she was cut by a pair of lips covering her own. He was forceful, harsh- almost bruising Molly. He pulled away, glaring angrily.

"Don't. You. _Dare._" He said, claiming her mouth again. He was gentler this time, but not by much.

"_He_ manipulated you. _He _played with you emotions. And _I_ did the exact same thing. _I _was the one who was meant to have realised. _I_-" he trailed of, staring stonily at the cupboard again. Molly understood now. He was angry at _himself_.

"Oh Sherlock, come here." She said crawling over to straddle him, so that she could face him. He had his angry face on, but it softened considerably when he saw her.

Cupping his face, Molly leaned down and pecked him softly.

"I'm pretty sure one of your later questions on this topic would be if I loved him or something along that context. And I think you know the answer to that." She said softly, tracing the outline of his face softly with the pad of her finger. Sherlock brought his hand up, lacing his fingers with hers. He brought their intertwined hands to his lips and kissed hers.

"I want to hear you say it." He said softly. Looking back at the moment later on, Molly would realise just how much she almost completely ruined the rare romantic moment with Sherlock. She laughed. Hard.

She even snorted a little.

"Is there a reason you're laughing?" Sherlock asked, clearly annoyed.

"I'm sorry." She said in between giggles "It's just that, you just fully, hundred percent, perfectly quoted Twilight." Molly began laughing harder, leaning her forehead on Sherlock's.

She was lucky that laughs were contagious, because Sherlock actually broke into a grin. He even chuckled slightly. Molly sobered as fast as she could, but didn't take her head away.

"The only reason I ever said yes to him was to make _you _jealous. I didn't love him. Was he gentleman? Yes. Was he ideal boyfriend material? Yes. But he wasn't _you_." Molly closed the gap between their lips and kissed him softly. She received a very eager response. She was just about to give in completely when she remembered something.

"Oh. I got a package in the mail." She said suddenly, before getting of Sherlock and leaving the room. She grabbed the parcel form the table and ripped of the paper as Sherlock came out, pouting.

"You know we haven't had sex since I came back from the case?"

"That was last night." Molly said, "I'm sure you survived. And you can do so, just a little longer."

It was another jewellery box, much like the one that held the earrings. It was unbranded and the package had no return address or the sender's name, but she knew who it was from.

Molly let out a huff of air before turning nervously to Sherlock. He stared back, a small smirk on his face, indicating to her to open the box. She did.

This time, it was the note she saw first. On clean beige card, in gold swirly typed writing was **Something Borrowed.**

"Something _borrowed_? The last two I got was something blue and old. Is this guy planning my wedding?" she asked. Sherlock shrugged.

"I'm no good with woman things."

"It's not woman when a man sends it."

"Yes, but seeing as these have things to do with wedding and other girlish things, the only thing I can say is that this man may either be someone who wants you to get married, or someone who wants to marry you."

"Are you sure it's a man?" Molly asked "could it be more than one person?"

"Possibly." Sherlock said. "The fonts used when the cards are typed are all very different, but the handwriting used is the same, right-handed, male, brought up in a sophisticated environment. A male is the mastermind behind this."

Molly nodded, when another thought hit her.

"Something _borrowed_, though. Isn't that term used rather lightly, especially when one is stealing something? He could've stolen this. Either that, or am I supposed to give this back to him? If so, how the hell can I when I don't know him?" Sherlock took in all her questions with a smirk.

"I don't think he'd steal. Like I said, he was brought up in a rich enough environment. As for the returning bit, I'm pretty sure this person intends to have the gift back, and yes, you will have to know his identity- that's why I'm saying that he is going to tell you his identity. And soon, might I add- the phrase goes, if I'm not mistaken as:

_Something old,_

_Something new,_

_Something borrowed,_

_Something blue._

And seeing that the first three, including this one has been given, you only have to wait for one more before you confront him." Molly nodded at the logic, before looking down at the box. She moved the note aside, leaving her to look at a small, sparkling, white gold, seashell.

"Lord, it's beautiful." She said, holding it up for Sherlock to see. It was a very small, very simple, conch with a hook to hook on a necklace or bracelet.

"Definitely rich." Sherlock said. Molly placed it back in the box, afraid of dropping it. She came back after dropping it of in her bedroom.

"I saw you in pain when we were on the stairs. Is it your chest wound?"

"It was, but it is fine- it's merely in the process of healing. It will be okay in a few days." Molly bit her lip and looked up uncertainly at him.

"Can I see it?"

"Molly it's fine-"

"Please? I just need to see it with my own eyes. Please? Sherlock hesitated before shedding of his coat and shirt.

The wound was not as red as it was last night and it was beginning to scab- but it would still be horrible to look at if one wasn't used to it. The flesh around it was an angry pink compared to the rest of his flawless alabaster skin. Molly ran her fingers softly around the edge, willing herself to swallow the tears that were entering her eyes.

"How-How did it happen?" she asked, forcing her voice not to crack. Molly drew her eyes away from the wound and looked up at Sherlock. He looked at her gently, immediately relaxing her.

"I was about to be stabbed. Well I was, but John shot the man before it was in to far." Molly nodded, looking back at the wound. It was at the edge of his left pectoral, almost right in the center if his chest. Any deeper, and it would have possibly killed him. Molly's head was swimming with the possible events during and after Sherlock's potential death and didn't even try stopping the tears that began falling down her cheeks.

She let out a large sob and almost jumped onto Sherlock, hugging his neck, and taking care not to put to much pressure on the wound. Sherlock's hands wound their way into her hair, soothing it and massaging her scalp. Molly relaxed, her sobs ending slowly. She pulled back, her face red and her nose runny and sniffled softly as she took in Sherlock's face again. Somehow during the sobbing, she'd manage to straddle him, and hold onto him like a child. She'd never get tired of his face. Those cheekbones, psychedelic eyes, long nose, alabaster skin and those beautiful Cupid's bow lips were things she looked forwards to seeing and touching everyday. He smiled softly, looking up at her; his peacefulness rubbing of on her. He rarely smiled like that. He always had an eternally young look when he did that.

She opened her mouth to say 'I love you' or 'I can't live without you' or something along those lines. Instead, she leaned down and showed him what she felt.

She met his lips with a strong passion, trying to show him just how much he meant to her. He responded just the same, maybe even more enthusiastic. As they stumbled their way to the bedroom, Molly realised that as much as she wanted Sherlock to say that he loved her, she didn't actually need it- not when he showed her almost everyday.

**Thanks to all the reviewers! Hope you enjoyed this chapter!**

**Review?**

**-Ash :)**


	10. Chapter 10

Today was a boring day. Molly sat her bench staring at the pile of paperwork seated in front of her. What she wouldn't do to have a nice cadaver to dissect.

The door to the morgue opened; Molly frowned. Mike was on leave and Josh never came back after _that_ day, so her fellow pathologists were out. The Yard team had left a few hours ago on a minor case, Sherlock following because he was bored- so they were of the list to. Maybe it was Mary? No, she'd been swamped with work for the past week, barely having time to even smile at Molly.

Molly hopped of her stool and straightened herself to greet this new _mystery_ guest.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

_**Few hours earlier…**_

The man in the grey suit sat back in his leather chair, awaiting the unannounced phone call that he was certain was about to come. He smirked when the sudden ring from his smartphone confirmed his thoughts.

"I was expectingyou." He said softly into the phone "to what do I owe the pleasure?" he heard a snort on the other end.

"You _know_ exactly what. You're going to tell her! I said _don't_." his caller's tone was angry, threatening almost. Grey Suit almost laughed.

"Why not? I _am_ the culprit, so to speak."

"No you aren't, not entirely, and you know it. I am part of it as well."

"Only after a little silent nudge from me. Doesn't she love them?"

"Shut up." Grey Suit smirked. He had him.

"No matter what you do or say, I am going to tell her the truth." Grey Suit said confidently. He heard the sneer in his caller's voice as he replied.

"And what? Spoil this _devious_ little scheme of yours? One that you've been working oh so hard on?"

"No, of course not. If this _scheme_ as you put it was ever _spoiled_, it would all be on you. See, unlike you, I actually _know_ what to say, when."

"What. Are you. Going. To. _Tell_. Her." The caller seethed. Grey Suit smirked even more.

"Like I said, the truth. Now, I really must get going- I have an important meeting with the prime minister and an even more important one directly after. Good day." Grey Suit snapped the phone shut, cutting of his caller's angry shouts.

The man in the grey suit stood up, calling for his assistant before leaving his office.

0o0oo0o000o0o

Molly was speechless when she saw him. He was still impeccably dressed in his formal three-piece suit, with his hair combed over in a parting to hide the receding hairline. His umbrella tapped against the floor, until coming to standstill when he stopped himself.

"Good morning, Molly." Mycroft Holmes greeted, extending a hand.

"Mycroft. What brings you here?" Molly asked warmly, accepting the hand. She'd met Mycroft, more than a few times after she'd gotten with his brother- sometimes for check-ups on the man-child himself, and others merely as acquaintances or at some type of over-the-top Holmes family brunch/lunch/tea/dinner.

"No reason." He answered, "Just wanted to see how my dear brother and his partner are getting along." Molly smiled.

"Of course. It's not like I have any more work to do anyway. I'd invite you over to my flat, but it may be that your, uh, dear brother will be there."

"Of course, of course. I believe this is the ideal place. Have a seat, Molly."

The two adults made their way over to the desk and chairs where they took their seats.

"How is he?"

"He's great. Just came back from a case- he got stabbed, but the wounds scabbing so it should be okay in a few days." Mycroft looked down at her and quirked the corner of his mouth slightly.

"Most would probably be traumatised if their partner was stabbed. I admire your toleration over it."

"Well, I do work with stabbings a lot."

"More importantly, how are you?"

Me? Same as always, I guess. I mean, I feel like throwing up every single time Sherlock goes on case, trying to get rid of the fact that he might not come home. But otherwise I'm fine." Mycroft looked over at her, before nodding.

"You know when I first inquired about you when the two of you first met- don't worry I did the same with everyone else he deems a friend- he told me that you were merely a quiet little worker. Almost like a mouse. When I met you for the first time, I had no objections to his statement. It seemed that even the smallest things would send you over the edge."

"Thanks." Molly interrupted.

"Anyway, now I can see just how much you proved the two of us wrong. Now Sherlock's never going to admit to that, ever, but I will. I've honestly never seen a woman as headstrong at put together as you are." Molly smiled.

"Thank you, Mycroft. I guess a little of your brother rubbed of on me." Mycroft shook his head.

"Oh no, I believe it to be the other way round." Molly smiled at that comment. Mycroft stood up, making his way back to the door. Molly followed.

"One more thing Molly," he said as he leaned against the doorframe "I've heard you've been receiving presents from an anonymous sender."

"Sherlock told you?"

"Well, no. But I know who sent them." Molly's eyes widened.

"Who then?"

"There is actually more than one. The first I will reveal to you, the others, well, they come to light in their own time."

"Do you not know of the others?" Molly asked.

"Oh no, I know exactly who they are, it just isn't my secret to give away. The first person, however, I can. He started it, you can say. Gave you the first few gifts, and supplied many of the others."

"Who was it?"

"Why, Molly, it was me." he said, before saying goodbye and leaving the morgue.

0o0o00o0o0oo

"It was your brother!" Molly cried out as she sat on her couch next to Sherlock.

"That's what he said? That it was him?"

"Yeah, but he said he only gave the first few and 'supplied' the rest. There are other people working on this."

"There are? See, I did tell you that there may be-"

"Yes, yes, I know. But I do just want to know who they are, you know?" Sherlock nodded his head thoughtfully before looking up at Molly with a cheeky grin.

"What did you do?" Molly asked carefully.

"Nothing. Get up, we're going out."

"What? Why? Sherlock that is no way to talk to you girlfriend."

"Molly will you _please_ get up?"

"Why?"

"We're going _out_."

"Why?" Sherlock groaned exasperatedly before leaning down and scooping her up. Molly let out a surprised yelp.

"Sherlock _what_ are you doing?"

"Getting you out of your chair. Now come on, we have places to be."

Soon enough, Molly found herself in a green dress, in the back seat of a black cab, next to Sherlock. She was about to ask where they were going, when they stopped outside a _very_ fancy restaurant.

"Sherlock, what are we doing here?"  
"To eat, of course." He pulled her gently out of the cab, and led her through the front doors. The restaurant was sophisticated, and so very elegant. Classical music played from a live String Quartet in the corner, and an enormous chandelier hung from the high ceiling. The floor was carpeted, and the seats to every candle-lit table were cushioned.

'Ah, Mister Holmes." A middle-aged man with a French accent greeted the couple. He was dressed in a white Oxford and black dress pants. A too-tight vest covered his shirt, and he looked very uncomfortable.

"Please, follow me to your table."

They were seated in a private booth, where a waiter served them wine before saying that their food would arrive shortly.

"Sherlock- what are we doing here? And don't say to eat." He glanced at her before taking a sip of wine. He cleared his throat. Molly was certain that she had never seen Sherlock nervous. Ever.

"Sherlock?"

"We've never been on a date." He blurted out suddenly. Molly was slightly taken aback.

"So? What's you point? Oh- _oh_ Sherlock, is this-?"She trailed of, grinning slightly at the uncomfortable detective. He nodded slightly, taking another sip of wine.

"Your appetisers." The waiter called as he walked into the booth, balancing two plates in his hand. He set them down and explained the meal- not that Molly was listening, She was to busy grinning at the very flustered Sherlock.

"Enjoy." The waiter said before leaving. Molly immediately slid over to sit next to Sherlock. She threw her arms around his neck and pulled him to her.

"Thank you, Sherlock. Thank you." She said into his neck. She pulled away and looked at him. His flustered expression was gone, and now he was grinning ear-to-ear.

"I take it it's to your satisfaction." Molly laughed, before leaning forward to kiss him chastely. She pulled away grinning.

"You're the best Sherlock."

"I must say that it was Mycroft's idea, however."

"Then I'll just have to thank him then, but still Sherlock. To do this for me…"she trailed of. She felt Sherlock raise his hand to cup her cheek.

"You're crying." He said, concerned. Molly brought a hand up to her own cheek. She felt wetness and laughed.

"Of course, Sherlock. Happy tears."

"_Happy_ tears?"

"Happy tears." She said before kissing him again. He pulled away, grumbling.

"Emotions are illogical." He grumbled as he scooped a spoonful of risotto in his mouth. Molly laughed, before doing the same.

The second course was lamb shank with the chef's special sauce. Molly moaned as she placed a piece in her mouth. She looked up she chewed to see Sherlock smirking. She swallowed before asking.

"What?" he smirked even more.

"Just thinking of the other times you moan." Molly shook her head at him.

"Honestly, you act like a horny teenager sometimes." He slid over to her.

"Only for you." He whispered against her ear before nibbling it slightly and pulling away. Molly turned towards him and leaned in, before pushing him away from her.

"Okay, good for me. Now eat Sherlock. I want to see that plate finished." Sherlock chuckled to himself. A glare in his direction made him cut his meat a little faster.

Dessert came in (chocolate mousse with a raspberry sauce) along with a refilling of the wine.

"The food here is amazing- the prices must by sky high." She said, looking over at Sherlock.

"It is, but I pulled a few strings."

"A case?" she asked. He nodded in reply.

"Life is easy when you're with the World's Only Consulting Detective." She sighed, leaning onto Sherlock's left arm. He looked down at her, cupping her cheek, before lowering his mouth onto hers.

She kissed him back, and pushed against him as he nibbled her bottom lip playfully. She swiped her tongue over his upper lip as he felt his hand pulling her upwards. He granted her access and allowed her tongue to explore his mouth. He groaned into her as he pulled her knee over his legs.

She straddled him, still not breaking the kiss and ran her hands down the front of his shirt. He broke away for air, before trailing kisses down her neck. Molly arched unconsciously, as he got lower and lower. She moaned right before regaining her senses.

"Sherlock," she muttered trying to push him of. He didn't listen- instead he pulled her closer, now kissing the her collarbone.

"Sherlock, come one, get off." She said. Not that her bothered doing anything about it.

'Sherlock!" Molly cried out, slapping his face away lightly. He pulled away, lips bruised and eyes wide with surprise and lust, before narrowing.

"_What_?" he asked, irritated. He tried to get back to his earlier actions, but was pushed of by Molly. He groaned.

"Not in public." She said gently, pecking his lips. She looked down at them. Noticing their position for the first time.

"We somehow always end up in this position, don't we?" she asked. Sherlock shrugged.

"Aren't I to heavy?" she asked, getting of. Sherlock's hand on her hip stopped her.

"Don't. I like it. And you are definitely not heavy." He said softly. Molly smiled down at him and laced her arms around his neck. She burrowed her face into the crook of his neck and inhaled.

"You smell nice today." She said. She felt Sherlock's chuckles vibrate through his body and her's. In the silence, both heard footsteps coming their way, so Molly hastily climbed off and fixed her mused hair. The waiter entered to check on them, before leaving.

After tipping generously, the couple strode out of the restaurant to be greeted by the chilly London air. Molly shivered, getting used to the cold, when she found she didn't have to. Sherlock wrapped his arm around her body, enveloping her in warmth. She returned his smile before nuzzling her face into his side. They walked silently for a while, both content with each other's company.

"John's over at Mary's." Sherlock whispered in her ear, "Would you like to come over?" he asked, before taking the lobe in his mouth and sucking it gently. Shiver ran down Molly's spine.

"I don't know. A woman never follows a gentleman home after the first date." She said pointedly. He raised an eyebrow at her.

"Anyway I can convince you otherwise?" Molly tapped her chin with her finger with mock concentration.

"I don't know, try me?"

"Well," he said, leading her down a street "I am not the cliché gentleman." He said. Molly smirked up at him.

"Not good enough."

"Fine. Technically, this is our second date."

"Is it?" Molly asked with mock surprise. Sherlock nodded.

"The day when we went out to see that film with the blue people and the predictable plot."

"Avatar was a movie you spoiled for me before we were fifteen minutes in and we were watching it as friends at the time, remember?"

"I don't think we were just friends when we were doing what we did after." He muttered seductively. Molly looked up rolling her eyes.

"Even so, the milestone is at three dates, love."

"I think I know what will make you oblige."

"And what way is that, may I ask, Mr. Holmes?" she said, crossing her arms and leaning on a hip. Sherlock smirked before leaning forward and capturing her lips with his. He backed her up (where did that tree come from?) and feverishly ran his hands up and down her body. To a passerby, because of her large coat, it would seem like a couple merely kissing under a big dark tree. Little did they know just what Sherlock's not-so-innocent hands were doing to her.

Molly placed a hand on his shoulder and another trailing around his back and chest. Sherlock ran his hands under her coat, and lightly trailed over her breasts, brushing slightly over them. She moaned against him.

He pulled away, panting; his lips red and bruised form the snogging and Molly's lipstick. His shirt was crumpled and he was grinning like a little boy with candy. Molly's breathing was ragged, and her pupils were dilated until her eyes were virtually black. Her face was flushed; she took a few seconds to regain her breathing.

"I think that's a sufficient enough reason." She said. Sherlock grinned, before taking her small hand in his and pulling her to the direction of 221 B, Baker Street.

0o0o0o0o

Molly had barely shed her coat before Sherlock had lifted her by her hips and pushed her against the wall. Her legs immediately wrapped around his waist as he crashed her lips onto hers, over and over again. They left her mouth, nipping and kissing every inch of her face and neck as her carried her over to the sofa. He sat her down and unwrapped her legs before pulling away.

"Hey," she pouted at the interruption.

"In due time, Molly." He grinned. He turned around to face the mantelpiece, where he picked up a piece of purple card. He handed it to Molly, who flipped it over.

She drew in a breath when she recognized the cursive handwriting.

**Every woman deserves a special date- I'm sorry I never realised.**

Molly looked up at Sherlock, before glancing back down at the note. She did this multiple times, her mouth open, but still in too much shock to speak.

"But- what? I mean- this handwriting- that's why it's so familiar-" Molly voiced her jumbled thoughts. She'd finally put it all together, kind of. She looked back up at Sherlock, who was standing above her, hands clasped behind his back.

"Sherlock-" she started.

"Wait," he interrupted "before you say anything, there still is another thing I have to show you."

**Okay guys, we're reaching the almost end here with this story, but not quite yet. This time Sherlock **_**really**_** has to show her something, I promise. I'm going to try write this next chapter as fast as possible, and after that there will be one last, final chapter. Thank you all you reviewers- and thank you LaserGirl77 who actually gave me some ideas for this fic and others and for helping me through quite a few blocks- you rock **

**-Ash **


	11. Chapter 11

Sherlock walked in the direction of his bedroom, leaving Molly to swirl around in her thoughts. That was his handwriting on the card, the same handwriting on many of those presents…

"Molly?" Sherlock's unusually hesitant voice broke her from her reverie. She looked down a little, and met his eyes. He sat back, kneeling, on his heels, right in front of her place on the couch. He placed a hand on her bare knee. Molly looked at it, before looking back at Sherlock.

His other hand held a small black, unmarked box. It was simple and unwrapped. Sherlock handed it to her. She took it silently with her right hand, the other she used to clutch Sherlock's. He twisted his hand, palm up, to grip hers back. She looked back at him, a smile playing on her lips. Sherlock visibly relaxed, some of the tension leaving his shoulders. He leaned forwards and planted a kiss on her temple.

"Open it." He whispered softly into her hair. Molly leaned into him, and nodded when he pulled away to look at her.

She opened the small box carefully. Another handwritten note was placed in it, covering the gift. It was handwritten with the cursive, spidery font she knew now to be Sherlock's. It was another two-word message:  
**Something New.**

Inside lay the necklace she was given a while back- she recognized the chain and the doughnut-shaped pendant. She frowned in confusion and looked at Sherlock.

"Take it out." He said. She nodded and lifted the piece of delicate jewellery slowly, as if it were a fragile object that would break with the slightest amount of pressure.

The key shaped pendant with the engraving was still on it, but there were two new editions next to it as well, filling up the hooks on the main pendant.

On the left side was the small conch shell. It sparkled in the dim light, reflecting it onto the simpler key. She twirled it around in her fingers for a little while, before moving over to the last pendant. When she saw it, her breath caught.

_**Few days earlier…**_

"_Sherlock, come look at this." Molly called out suddenly. Sherlock walked over to where Molly was stood with an assistant, who was unashamedly checking him out. He smirked at her, deducing the woman._

Bleached hair, too much make up, tries to catch every man she gets. Obviously in early twenty's. Soft hands, never seen work. Rich, father owns this store. Forced to work here, but still paid.

"_Look at this." Molly said, snapping him out of his reverie. She smirked slightly_, is there ever a time when he gives his brain a rest_? She glanced down at the pendants in her palm. They were beautiful; a simple magnifying glass with embedded emeralds,_

_**Current time…**_

Molly stared at the miniature object in her fingers. She'd never really noticed just how many emeralds there were in there. Now, in the lighting, there seemed to be hundreds, and the green light they reflected of seemed to make the entire pendant seem green.

Molly continued staring at the pendant. She drooped over into a slouch, resting her hands on her elbows. She brought her free hand up to cover her mouth. With the tears welling up in her eyes and her battle to hold them back, she was terrified of making some type animalistic, unattractive moan…or even worse- a sob.

Her hair fanned over her face, blocking her view of the outside world- not that she cared. She wasn't really looking anywhere. Her vision began to blur.

_He actually remembered_ Molly thought as a tear escaped and fell a few millimeters away from the pendant, onto her palm. _He actually remembered from all those days ago _she thought when the realisation finally dawned on her that him and hi brother did all of this.

_For me._

She looked back up at Sherlock at that thought. Molly brushed her hair away from her face and looked at the man in front of her. His concerned look worsened and maybe even showed a hint of afraid when he caught sight of her watery eyes. _At least I haven't cried tracks_ she thought. Molly almost laughed. Her boyfriend had just revealed that he had done all these beautiful things for her and all she could think about was whether her tears decided to run down her face or not.

Molly brought her hand up to cup Sherlock's face. She smiled when he unconsciously leaned into her touch. He seemed to loose some of the concern in his expression at her smile.

"Molly-"

"Shhh" she muttered, shutting him up. She was still trying to get her brain to fully comprehend the fact the _brilliant_, gorgeous man in front of her was all hers.

"All mine." She muttered softly as she traced her thumb over his cheekbone. She brought up her other hand to do the same with the other half of his face- she _had _to be sure that this was real- that this was not some type of amazing dream or fantasy.

When her thumb traced over his parted lips, she felt the hitching in his breath. _This _is_ real _she decided when she looked up into his eyes.

Usually, they were different blues and greys; sometimes greens and browns, but those were very rare. As she looked into them now, one of those rare emerald colours shone in his irises.

She stared into his eyes, just watching the different greens, trying to count the number of shades at one point. She picked out fleck of grey and brown in the middle. There honestly wasn't that much colour to look at anymore- the pupils were growing insistently larger by the minute.

Another tear escaped, this time leaving a trail down her cheek. Sherlock reached up and brushed it away. Molly laughed, for reasons she couldn't fathom and leaped forwards, throwing her arms around Sherlock.

He fell back on the rug in surprise, one arm bracing Molly, the other keeping them from a painful fall. Soon enough, his arm couldn't take the weight of both and gave way.

They landed with a slight thud on the floor; Molly clung on tighter, her face buried in the crook of his neck. He could feel the wetness on his shirt from her tears growing. Sherlock pushed himself up to a seated position. His legs remained parted, so Molly sat on the ground directly in front of him. She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling them closer it were possible; Sherlock crossed his legs behind her to get more comfortable.

Molly brought her head up when she exhausted all her tears and sniffled softly.

"Sorry about you shirt." She said indicating to the wet patch. Sherlock glanced at it before looking back at Molly.

"Why were you crying?" he asked softly. He ran his hands through her hair gently. Molly laughed slightly.

"Because you are the most brilliant, wonderful, amazing man I have ever met."  
She said, laughing again at the end "All this time, I've been trying to figure it out, and all this time it was you and your brother!" she laughed again.

"I didn't actually think of it-"

"Mycroft did, I know. I think I know why."

"Why?"

"Well," she started sheepishly "I think you know that your brother checks up on you through me." Sherlock smirked

"Yes I do."

"Yeah, well, I may have once told him that you were not the most romantic boyfriend I ever had, not that I mind, of course." She added at the end. Sherlock's smirk widened.

"When did _you_ figure it out?" Molly asked.

"After the shoes."

"That's why you never got so angry like you did then. I _knew_ you were genuinely jealous!" Molly cried out; she pecked him on the nose when he scowled slightly at the comment.

"The two of us weren't the only ones." Sherlock added after a while.

"Really? Who else?" Molly asked, genuinely confused "Oh my god, was it _Mary_?"

Sherlock nodded smirking

"And Donovan." He said. Molly laughed again, shaking her head.

"Wait, Sally? I thought the two of you were still in…"

"Yes, well, she heard Mycroft and I arguing about it and wanted in. Said it'd be good for us to work together- said it'd 'build our relationship'."

"And did it?" Molly asked eyebrows rose.

"No."

"Liar."

"Well, she is more tolerable."

"Ha. Told you so. What about Mary?"

"We needed her when it came to getting you the personal items- she knew you best, other than me of course, and I just wanted some confirmation on the gifts. She chose the bear." Molly smiled.

"I just realised- it's meant to look like _you_! Black hair, well fur, that's curly and those blue-grey eyes. How did I not notice that?" she wondered out loud.

"That's why you leave all the problem solving to me." Sherlock said, smirking. Molly hit him playfully. She sighed.

"So, I'm not a romantic, huh?" Sherlock asked. Molly grinned.

"No, not at all." She said pecking him on the lips "but this, this is a little something new. I think I should reward you- what do you think?" Sherlock smirked, before leaning forward and biting her lower lip.

"I agree completely." Molly smirked before leaning in to kiss him. He broke away rather quickly to her disappointment.

"You don't want to collect?" she asked, pouting.

"I do, trust me, I do, but I have one more present for you."

"Another one?" Molly asked, surprised.

"Just one more." Sherlock moved to get up, but Molly wrapped her legs tighter, trapping him.

"Come on, Molly, I'll be back in a few seconds."

"But I'm comfortable here! Can't this wait?" she whined.

"No it cannot." He said gently, before unwrapping himself from her. He walked into his room once more.

Molly pulled her knees up to her chest and leaned her head down. She smiled.

_How the hell did I get so lucky?_

Sherlock walked back into the room, nothing new visible in his hands. Molly frowned.

"I thought you were getting something. You just wasted a walk and my comfortable position." Molly whined again. Sherlock laughed at her, before squatting, to peck her lips. Instantly, her frown disappeared. He got back up and extended her hand.

"Do I have to?" Molly asked.

""I can't really give this to you when you're cradling yourself on the floor like a child. As endearing as it is- it really isn't suitable. I promise it will be over rather quickly if things go according to plan." Molly glanced at him and then his hand before taking it.

Sherlock pulled her to her feet, single handedly. Molly, being Molly, stumbled slightly and fell against his chest. Sherlock smiled above her and pried her away, before leaning down to kiss her chastely. He pulled away to look at her. He took a step back.

"Okay, just stand where you are and just don't move. I have never done this before, but I guess there's a first time for everything right?" he said softly. Molly nodded. Sherlock took a deep breath.

"Molly…"

**Hehe, hey guys, so I finished of this chapter and I know it is a little short, but I think I can make for it in the next chapter *****wink***** *****wink* but hoped you like this one! Thanks to all the reviewers! Love you all!**

**-Ash **


	12. Chapter 12

**Okay so I bumped up the rating, and yes because there I smut in this, but I have put up guidelines as to where it starts and where it ends, so those people who are uncomfortable (or get bored) and skip right ahead.**

**Enjoy!**

"Molly, I know I haven't been the best person to you- especially when we first met, but somehow you managed to put up with it and I finally _realised_ just how much you meant to me.

"You mean the most to me in this world. Yes, despite what you may think, even more than John. You've been there for me, you helped me when no one else would, or could. You risked your life for me.

"I-I know that I believe that caring is a disadvantage, and a weakness, but I've come to realise that I've already given into that. A long time ago. So I realised, yes, caring is something I still believe to be a weakness in someone, but if it is for someone like John, Mrs. Hudson, and Lestrade and of course _you_, it's all bloody

"I'd do anything for you, Molly, you'd better know that. I'd protect you, I'd keep you away from harm, hell, and I'd die for you if I'd have to.

"To tell you the truth, I'm not sure if I'd want to live without you. I definitely have never felt so _strongly_, over anyone." Molly looked up at Sherlock, and smiled.

"I know, love." She said softly. He leaned down and pecked her once on the lips.

"Again, I haven't done this before, but I've seen it _being _done, so I believe I know what to do. Honestly, in all my years I'd never thought I'd ever to this. Ever." He looked back up at Molly.

"You've changed me- for the better. Almost like some type of guardian angel." Molly grinned, standing on her toes to peck him on the cheek.

"Now stop leaving me in suspense. What is it that you want to do?"

"Maybe it wasn't a good idea. I should probably wait and-"

"Sherlock."

"Molly. It really isn't such a good idea anymore and-"

"Sherlock." Molly said softly. She held his biceps her fingers massaging them softly.

"Look at me." she said quietly. He did, meeting her eyes carefully. "Just show me, or tell me what it is. Please? I promise I won't laugh or cry or scream or whatever. You know I _love_ you too much for that."

Sherlock looked down at her with that piercing stare that made her knees buckle and head go woozy. He took a deep breath.

"Just-Just stay there, okay?"

"Okay, Sherlock." He stepped back then and suddenly kneeled on one foot and faced the ground. Molly was curious because he was fumbling around with his hands. She wanted to see what was going on, but he was probably tying his shoelaces. Besides, she wanted to keep her promise. Then she realised both laces were done. Molly's eyes widened.

_No way, no way, no way, no way_ she chanted over and over in her head _no way- not to _me_ of all people_

Her heart raced up and settled in her mouth, almost choking her. It drummed wildly in her ribs; she felt like it was in more than one place- her whole body felt like it was vibrating. Heat drove up her ears and into her head.

Sherlock straightened, the cube velvet (purple) box on his palm. Molly's hands flew up to her mouth. She barely realised that they were trembling like leaves in a strong wind.

He opened the box with his free hand before placing it underneath. Molly almost pinched herself. Sat there, in the box's lining was the silver band with the beautiful diamond sitting right in the middle. It had to be at least three carats; stunning amethysts surrounded it. Molly coked back a sob.

"Oh my _god_…"she whispered, staring, alternating between Sherlock and the ring on his palm. He cleared his throat.

"Molly, I don't want to spend another moment in my life without you being my partner. I don't believe in rubbish like soulmates, but I do believe you are the closest you can get to being mine, and I'd love to have the honour to call you my…wife." Molly began crying when his voice cracked on the last word.

_This isn't happening, it's all a dream and I'll wake up again in a few moments. I will- I know I will._

Molly pinched herself discreetly, and almost yelped in pain. Definitely real. It was happening.

"Molly, will you marry me?" Molly nodded her head frantically, after finding that she had no voice. She didn't stop when she saw Sherlock grin widely and stand up. She didn't stop when she ran up to him and jumped into his arms, latching her legs around him.

"Yes, yes, yes, yes, a million times, yes." She muttered into his ear as she pecked and kissed every area of skin she could find. His hands wrapped around her back tightly, until one wound its way into her hair. He pulled her head back slightly.

She looked into his eyes, and swore she saw tears, but couldn't investigate further, because he crashed his lips against hers. It was searing this one, passionate and bruising. Molly loved every minute of it. Sherlock broke away, placing the box in his trouser pocket. Before leaning in again. He walked forwards, his knee banging against the couch. He dropped Molly onto it and leaned in, capturing her lips again.

They broke away for air, but Sherlock immediately set work on her jaw and neck. Molly moaned as his kisses travelled lower and lower.

"Sherlock, Sherlock, bedroom. Now." She muttered in between moans. Sherlock broke away, smirking, before lifting the petite woman in his arms, and almost running to the bedroom.

**-M Rated Warning- Don't read this next bit if you don't want to—**

Sherlock dropped Molly on the bed, before kicking of his socks and shoes. He got back on, crawling over to where Molly lay down. She leant up to meet him half way with another kiss. She pulled him down, forcefully on top of her. He almost fell on her small body, but braced himself with his hands on either side of her head.

Again, Sherlock trailed a searing path down her throat with kisses. He reached behind Molly as she arched into his mouth to unzip her dress. She flipped them around, suddenly.

"Me first." She smirked, straddling him and running her hands over his chest. She leaned down and nibbled softly at the edge of his clavicle. He moaned against her.

"I love you neck. So bloody long. So…hot." She whispered against him as she trailed kisses over the long expanse. His face was slowly flushing from the heat and arousal. She pecked him on the lips, before pulling away and working on his buttons.

"I love," the first button popped open

"Your chest." the second one

"So big" number three

"So hard," four

"Not bulky" five

"But not to thin." Six the shirt lay open, exposing his chest and stomach. Sherlock watched Molly absentmindedly run her hands over his defined pectorals, carefully tracing the stab wound before scratching them sharply over his abdomen. Sherlock bucked; Molly smirked. She ran her hands lower, over to the waistband of his trousers, before trailing back up.

"Molly," he hissed "Stop teasing."

"I'm not." She said innocently. "I'm merely exploring." Sherlock sat up and grabbed her hands.

"Enough exploring. Or I'll have to do some of my own he said, before releasing a hand to squeeze a breast. Molly's breath hitched.

"Someone's touchy." She said as she ran her hand over his shirt, making it drop over his hand, exposing a well-developed arm. Sherlock released her other one, allowing her to strip him of the piece of cotton entirely.

"I love you arms," she said, running her hands up and down them.

"When they're holding my when we sleep, when we kiss, when you carry me," she said softly. She kissed each shoulder once.

"When you're _fucking _me." Sherlock's eyes were now completely dilated, leaving virtually no irises. Molly leaned down, placing a kiss on the wound, before taking a nipple in her mouth. Sherlock groaned above her.

"Molly…" Molly smirked before switching sides. She bit down on the other nipple causing Sherlock to involuntarily buck against her.

"Molly, _please_…"

"Because you asked." Molly said before sliding of him and of the bed.

She was still in her dress, eventhough it was unzipped, so she stripped out of it, slowly, knowing Sherlock was watching everything. She finally stepped out of it and kicked it to a corner, before kneeling at the edge of the bed. Sherlock immediately got up and sat at the edge in front of her. Molly kneeled upward, looking down at the tent in his trousers. She let her hand slide over it, smiling at the hiss that sounded. She kissed it slowly before looking up at Sherlock.

"Take them off." She said softly. Sherlock complied, smirking at her as he did so, tantalisingly slowly.

His hard length finally sprung free and Sherlock sighed, free for restraints. He sat back down as Molly leaned up to kiss him lightly. She pulled away, smirking. Molly bent over, her arse in the air on purpose, and kissed her way up Sherlock's shin.

"I love you legs." She said kissing up one thigh

"So muscular. Over worked I must say though," she trailed a kiss past his needed area and went down his other leg. She ignored his groan of protest.

"Especially when they're pounding into me against a wall or door." Sherlock let out another groan. Molly stopped at his ankles and looked back up.

Sherlock was gazing at her, one hand moving up and down his shaft. It started moving faster when he saw her lick her lips slightly. She placed her own hand over him and stopped.

"That's my job, love." She said softly before slapping his arm away. Molly bent down, as her arm began moving up with long, slow light strokes up and down his hard shaft. He groaned above her. Molly smirked up at him, before looking down and planting a kiss on his head. He groaned louder.

Molly kneeled lower and enveloped an entire of one of the two sacs in her mouth Sherlock's hips bucked wildly at the surprise and his eyes flew open.

"_Molly!_" he groaned out. His hands wound into her hair as she released it and took on it's partner. Her hand was still making languid strokes, but soon felt the absence of Sherlock's hand in her hair, but on her own hand, forcing her to stroke faster. She let go completely, leaving him staring down at her. She leaned back up, kissing him on the lips before leaning down again.

This time she enveloped his entire length into her mouth. She stared up at him watching him watch her. Molly could feel the wetness from her core seep in slowly into her knickers. Sherlock stood up suddenly, forcing Molly to back up. She pulled away and smirked at him silently, before taking in the hard length again.

Molly braced herself against Sherlock's hips for balance. His hands pulled tightly on her hair. She moaned as she felt another bout of dampness stain her underwear.

Sherlock began thrusting into her mouth. He didn't start of slow; he went straight into it, pumping harder into her mouth. Molly choked slightly, but the gag caused him to moan and pump harder.

Sherlock turned his head up, exposing his neck. Molly let her right hand drop and make its way to her underwear. She tentatively stroked herself through her already wet underwear as she ran her tongue over the vein on Sherlock's cock. He groaned again, still looking up. Molly watched him thrust into her, and continued stroking herself. She fell back slowly on her heels, and released her other hand to bring up her breast. She ran her fingers over her nipples once and moaned.

The sound caused Sherlock to snap his head down. One look at Molly and he groaned as he shot his seed out into her mouth. Molly moaned, excepting it all into her mouth. Sherlock took his re-hardening length out of her mouth as she panted. She could still taste the bittersweet after taste of his seed. Sherlock knelt down in front of her and cupped her cheeks, pecking her on the forehead. She then grabbed his face down and crashed her lips against his, forcing him to taste himself.

He broke away, smirking.

"My turn." He said, before picking Molly up and placing her on the edge of the bed. She sat on the same position he was just in and watched as he crawled up her, smirking. His alabaster skin, dark mop and eyes and that smirk somehow reminded Molly of sometime of fallen angel.

Sherlock kissed her ear, nibbling it, before making his way down her neck. He kissed a trail down her neck, before biting hard on the skin. Molly cried out in mostly pleasure. He kissed the spot and licked the angry red mark.

"Mine." He growled before pushing her against the bed. Her legs still dangled of the edge of the bed and she was still clad in her underwear. Sherlock pulled carelessly at the flimsy lace of her bra strap as he looked at her. Her hair fanned around her like a halo.

"Your hair, so soft and long." He said softly as played with a strand. He moved down to her chest, straddling her. He reached behind her and unclasped her bra with practiced ease. Molly helped him strip her out of it. Her nipples instantly hardened in the cool air.

"You breasts, so soft" he leaned down to kiss one before doing the same to the other. Molly mewled above him.

"Can't believe I ever said they were small." He muttered before leaning down and taking one into his mouth. Molly arched her back as he swirled his tongue over an engorged peak. She felt the tremors travelling down her spine and into her core. His other head began kneading the other breast, toying lightly with the nipple. Sherlock bit down on it; Molly let out a choked noise. Sherlock switched sides, He kneaded the bitten nipple softly, soothing it as he did the same to the untouched one.

Again Molly cried out, latching her arms around his head. Sherlock smirked and chuckled against her, the vibrations causing Molly to moan again. She could feel even more of her juices soil her knickers. Sherlock pulled away, planting a slow kiss on her. He leaned back, placing a knee between her thighs, forcing them apart.

"So wet." He groaned.

"All for you." She whispered softly. Sherlock's smirk came back.

"All for me to play with?" Molly nodded, uncaring about the glint in his eyes.

"Sit up. " he instructed, getting off the bed. Molly did so, her hands by her sides, uncertain.

Sherlock trailed his nose up her legs and buried it into her clothed folds. Molly whimpered slightly.

"You smell so good." He muttered softly, glancing up at her. Molly's back was arched, slightly in pleasure. Her hand was trailing up her stomach. Sherlock held onto the lace waistband of her knickers before sliding his hands away.

"Sherlock, now who's the tease."

"I am." He said plainly.

"Hypocrite. _Sherlock_" Molly finally obliged and slid away the black fabric. He tossed away somewhere and travelled his eyes up to the shaved mound. He pushed her thighs apart and inhaled. Molly shuddered above him. She closed her eyes and waited.

Her eyes flew open when he took the first lick.

"So sweet," he mumbled against her.

"_Sherlock…_" she muttered as he parted her folds and started licking around her. Molly felt him go everywhere except for that one place she knew would send her spiraling.

"_Sherlock please_"

"Please what?"

"Touch me."

"I am." Molly glared down at him as he swirled his tongue around her. Suddenly he ran his tongue over her bundle of nerves and Molly nearly screamed.

"There! Please Sherlock! There-Just-" Molly moaned as Sherlock finally obliged her. He looked up at her, his almond eyes sparkling. Molly fell back against the bed and arched her hips of the bed trying to get more friction. Sherlock kept his tongue on her clit, but kept pulling away when she tried getting closer. She groaned, frustrated and took a different approach.

She brought her hips back down and let her legs rest. Sherlock looked up at her, and carried on suckling. She didn't notice his hand coming up.

Sherlock plunged to fingers into her, palm up, immediately curling them to hit her g-spot. Molly screamed out and wrapped her legs around his neck, trapping Sherlock between her calves and mound. He didn't stop or falter. He added another finger and began pumping slowly into her.

Molly felt the little butterflies in her lower belly begin to swarm as the heat began taking over. She grinded herself into Sherlock, moaning and writhing on the bed. Her hands palmed at her breasts. She felt Sherlock's hand and mouth move away but she was already to far gone. The bed dipped and Sherlock captured her mouth with his. His hand went back down. He circled his clit once with his thumb, before straddling.

Molly screamed out her climax, dots entering her eyes the same time Sherlock entered her to the hilt. She cam down from her high, panting, realising suddenly that Sherlock was above her, pistoning his hips at an inhuman pace. He was watching her.

"So beautiful." He muttered before capturing her lips with his. Molly felt a rise of another climax coming onto her- she was still winded from the last one and moaned when Sherlock brushed a hand over her clit, smirking.

Energy suddenly coursed through her. Molly leaned up and planted her lips firmly on Sherlock's before dragging them down onto the mattress. His pace didn't slow. Sweat dripped down his head, pasting his curls on to his forehead,

Sherlock groaned before pulling away from the kiss. They stared at each other again. Molly wrapped her legs around his waist, giving Sherlock a new angle. Molly cried out as he went in deeper.

The second orgasm was a surprise. She didn't even realise the build up but when the initial shock of pleasure coursed through her, she instantly clamped herself down on Sherlock and screamed.

Sherlock came instantly after, groaning and spilling spurts of his seed into her. He bit down softly on her shoulder to muffle his own groans, and rolled over in case he crushed her. She lay back, panting, to tired to move.

**-End of M Rated Scene-**

She felt the mattress dip.

"Sherlock?" he was at his cupboard grabbing a pair of flannel pajama pants and an old T-shirt from his cupboard. Molly snorted.

"You're getting clothes? Seriously?" Sherlock smirked at her.

"I was going to het something else, but decided that it would save trouble in the morning." Sherlock pulled on the pants and tied the knot. He bent over to pick up his trousers and pulled something out of its pocket. He dropped the pants and crawled back onto the bed. He fitted the T-shirt over Molly's head, before pecking her on the cheek. He opened the ox he was holding, revealing the ring. He took it out, and threw the box somewhere. It thudded somewhere. Molly giggled.

"You didn't have to throw it." Sherlock shrugged before grabbing her left hand. He looked up at her, grinning. Molly returned it and leaned forwards to kiss him softly. He slid the ring into her finger.

"Perfect fit," she mused, "why am I not surprised?" Sherlock chuckled, before kissing her temple. They slid under the covers and Molly rested her head and left hand on Sherlock's chest.

An alarm clock chimed next to them: 12 a.m., 25th of December.

"Merry Christmas, Molly."

"And a Happy New Year." She answered, pecking him on the lips.

"I always though that I'd receive my ring in some beautiful dress, with my hair all done up, after a wonderful dinner with my gorgeous, sexy man. I definitely didn't think I'd be in my soon-to-be fiancés old T-shirt, with no underwear and my hair a mess, after a shag. At least I got the latter to right." Sherlock smirked down at her. The ring lay glinting for both of them to see.

"I couldn't ask for anything more perfect."

00o0o0oo0o0o0o00o0o

"What if he got cold feet? He doesn't want me, I'm sure of it!"

"MOLLY, calm the hell down. You're look gorgeous, and he doesn't have cold feet. He's standing down the aisle, right now." Molly frowned.

"Yeah right, let me see!" she cried. Mary stood in front of her.

"Don't you dare! It's bad luck! As Maid of Honour, I forbid you."

"Well as the bloody _Bride_ I object and sustain that order."

"Molly, calm down, I promise you, he's out there." Sally said, placing an arm on her shoulder. Mary smiled.

"You're getting married today, Molls." The nurse whispered. Molly grinned.

"I am. I'm getting married."

"You are." Donovan said. She caught sight of a polished, elderly man. Her eyes brightened.

"Mr. Hooper. Is it time?" the man, who was tearing up nodded slightly. Mary pushed Molly forward slightly. Mr. Hooper grinned at his daughter.

"Beautiful." He whispered. Molly smiled, before lacing her arms around his elbow. They began their walk when the doors opened.

The crowd hushed and gasped as they saw the bride. Molly grinned nervously. She was frightened that the strapless gown was going to fall down and expose her chest for the world to see. Her heels were very high and she was frightened about stumbling. At least it was cotton, the dress, and the train somehow wasn't tripping her. She held a bouquet of spider lilies (her mother's absolutely random choice) and glanced behind her.

Her niece smiled grinned and winked at her, as her brother (ring bearer, of course) smiled and nodded slightly. Behind them walked Mary, the blue dress setting of her eyes, her blonde hair piled on top of her head. The same went for Sally, the green dress she was wearing went beautifully with her skin. A close cousin stood behind her, grinning as well.

Molly trained her eyes back to the front- John stood there grinning madly (the thought of Sherlock finally getting married had finally gotten to him. Either that, or it was the fact that his own fiancé was directly behind her niece and nephew). He nudged Sherlock, who's back was turned continuously. Her brother stood at the alter, grinning at her before giving her a thumbs up. Her mother was on the front row on the left bench, her head-poking out. Tears were streaming down her face. It took all of Molly not to cry. Next to her was Sherlock's on mother. She smiled warmly at Molly. Her eyes were tearing up as well. Mycroft was also at the alter, in-between her brother and Sherlock.

His impassive face smile lightly at Molly, before he to nudged his brother. Sherlock turned around slowly, after his brother whispered in his ear. Even though he was always in two-piece suits, her breath caught when she saw him.

The black coat and whit dress shirt hugged his figure amazingly, the tie seated impeccably in the centre. His hair was combed to the side, but that one curl still fell endearingly on his forehead. His face broke into a grin as he first saw her and as she reached the isle and she said goodbye to her father, he reached out and took her hand, helping her up to the alter.

"Radiant." He muttered in her ear.

They went through the ceremonies in a blur. The next Molly knew, the priest was asking her the awaited question.

"Do you, Molly Hooper, take Sherlock Holmes to be your lawfully wedded husband?"

"I do." She said softly, her eyes never leaving Sherlock's. He grinned at her.

"And do you, Sherlock Holmes, take Molly Hooper to be you lawfully wedded wife?"

"I do," he muttered.

"And by the power invested in me I now pronounce you man and wife. You may now kiss the bride."

Molly grinned as Sherlock leaned down and captured her lips. Molly's hand laced around his neck. The church erupted in applause, and she was dimly away of cameras flashing. Literally. The press just had to do "The Holmes Wedding". It would be all over the news and on the papers by tomorrow.

But honestly she couldn't give a damn. She was Mrs. Molly _Holmes_.

They pulled away.

"Mrs. Holmes." Sherlock breathed. Molly laughed. Sherlock kissed her again. He pulled away and breathed the only three words she ever really needed him to say.

"I love you."

She grinned, capturing his mouth. As they walked down the aisle. Molly couldn't help but say.

"Off all times, you pick the most cliché one. Sherlock Holmes is becoming a softie." Sherlock smirked down at her.

"That's entirely your fault." He muttered. They walked out the doors. They still had the wedding reception to survive, and then they'd be off finally, for their first night as husband and wife.

Molly looked up at Sherlock as they made their way to the reception hall. He was smiling back down at her.

Molly smiled, nuzzling into his chest. He wrapped an arm around her.

Both never knew anything more perfect.

**Hey! So that's the end of this fic **** how'd you like the ending? Not good, good? Horrible? Thank you to all the readers who've followed me through this fic, and I hope you enjoyed it. **

**Special thanks to every single reviewer I have- you people are beyond amazing.**

**Review?**

**-Ash **


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